


For The Birds

by SBlackmane



Category: Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Eventual Relationships, Explicit Language, F/M, Fantasizing, I Hate/Love Theresa, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Magic, Major Fable 3 Spoilers, Masturbation, Mixed Heritage Character, Modern Girl In Albion, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, The Author Regrets Nothing, Trigger Warnings Provided in Author's Notes, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-11-30 18:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11469087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBlackmane/pseuds/SBlackmane
Summary: Raven is a plucky girl from our world who has been thrust into a new one...Albion.Yes, a modern girl in a fantasy world full of guns, frilly petticoats, powdered wigs and sardonic anecdotes, and she's decided to change things around. Raven uses her knowledge of Fable to help the one person who actually needs it. Nope, not Theresa. Nope, not the Hero...Logan. Yes, everyone's favorite tyrant king. Why? Because she's completely convinced the 'Old Crow' deserves a second chance. And maybe she just might get one of her own. And maybe, she's just the sort of spunk to spark a flame in Logan's icy heart.Birds of a feather should flock together, right?After all, being totally angelic was never Raven's style.That shit's for the birds.





	1. The Worst Day...Ever

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of wrote this on the fly (also from my phone) so I will be going back to do more editing as I go along, but here it is. Fable Modern Girl fic. I've always wanted to do a MG fic, had planned to do a DA:I Modern Girl in Thedas, but that's so overdone. And there simply aren't enough Fable fics IMO, don't you think? Hope you guys enjoy this. :)

She paced back and forth in the kitchen of her apartment. Well, actually, it was also the living room and bedroom too. But still. She just so happened to be closest to the microwave sitting on the small sliver of counter space beside the mini fridge when she started pacing.

Alright, so apartment was a bad word for it. When she said apartment it sounded like she had a loft, or a studio, but those were bigger. This was more like a single bed roach motel room with a decent weekly rate that she just so happened to be renting. So when she said pacing in the kitchen, it was more like pacing on the tiny patch if carpet between the bed and the counter next to the mini fridge, two feet away from the bathroom.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

She paced in her room while she held the unopened letter in hand.

The letter inside could possibly be an acceptance letter to the University, or it could be a letter of denial that said, 'Ha-ha. You really think you have a chance?! Fuck off, Raven. Stick to your job waiting tables. That's where you belong. And don't forget to tell your foster parents we said their daughter is such a disappoint that they should've left in a dumpster somewhere.'

Tan fingers preened black hair away from her face. Green eyes stared, unwavering at the letter.

This was it. Okay. Letter opening time.

Her cell phone rang, and she nearly jumped right out of her Joker tee. She checked the caller ID to see it was her foster mom calling.

"Hey, Dana," she said with a sigh.

"How's my girl today?" Dana asked, in a friendly mom voice.

"Eh," ended up being the answer.

"Mark told me you applied. So did you get the acceptance letter yet?"

"Um, yeah. Actually I did." Excited squeals followed that statement, coming from Dana, not Raven. Raven was a nervous wreck. "Stopped at the post office. I've got it right now. Haven't opened it yet."

"Oh! Wonderful! Will you open it right now? I just...I can't be there with you in person, but at least I can hear your reaction, even if I can't see it. Oh open it please?"

Raven chuckled a little.

"Alright."

"Yay! Oh this is so exciting!"

Raven let out a gust of air, hearing Dana's apprehensive breath catch, literally holding her breath, waiting for Raven to let out a victorious, ear piercing squeal. She ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter, slowly unfolding it, heart pounding in her ears.

"Raven? Are you still there?" Dana asked after there had been so long of a silence that the woman got nervous. "Did you get in?"

No. No she didn't.

Dana got her answer when she heard Raven's sobs, knew that they werent happy tears, and said, "Oh no. I'm so sorry baby. I'm so sorry."

Absently the phone slipped out from between her shoulder and her ear and crashed to the floor. She scrambled to pick it up, find the back that flew off, somewhere under the bed. When she looked at the phone and saw Dana was still on the line, she said, "I'll call you back later," then hung up. She ended up sitting on the backs of her calves on the floor with a scratched phone and a crumpled letter.

Two years of online community college, down the drain. Of course, Dana would say there were always other schools, and there was no reason to act like it was the end of the world, but...but that was what she wanted. That was the goal she'd been working towards. The school she picked was in the perfect location, so she didn't have to quit her job, find a new place to live, all while having the programs available so that she could get the particular bachelor's degree she wanted to pursue.

And she'd worked so hard. Worked hard for that GED to go to college, worked hard just to graduate community college so that she'd meet the requirements, and she'd busted enough ass raising her GPA to qualify for the goverment grants and scholarships that would cover her tuition. Spent countless hours waiting and bussing tables, cleaning up spills, and mopping up floors to afford to live while she took classes. And what she didn't earn for herself, her foster parents and state programs did, all the little things they could to help her through it.

Because this was what she wanted, and she'd earned it.

But the University turned down her application, on what seemed like a technicality.

It felt like they were saying 'You're still not good enough.'

No, it wasn't the end of the world, but yes, it hurt like hell.

When she could finally pull herself from the floor, she flopped down on the bed, pulling the covers around her, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, her lighter, a tray, and her Xbox controller.

Just her luck that as soon as she turned the system on, the power went out. Everything in her cheap ass room turned off. Some sort of power outage. Everything got dark. She had to peel back the curtain just to see two feet in front of her.

She let out a sigh as she stared out the smudged window at the empty back lot, which sported a spectacular view of an alley, a brick wall, and two dumpsters. Garbage. Her whole life was garbage. A dumpster full of festering waste.

She did it to herself. Not all of it, but some of it...okay, maybe a lot of it.

She had a 'whole life flashing before her eyes' moment. She flashed back to her mom dropping her off at the main entrance of a hospital when she was five. Her mom saying, "I'm just gonna go park the car, I'll be right back."... And never came back. Raven was just a stupid kid. How was she to know that her mom could've just parked the car, then walked the both of them to the hospital if she really needed to go to the hospital. Just a stupid kid who didn't know that when her mom pulled up and said, "Go ahead and get out," that her mom didn't plan on coming back.

How was she to know that she would end up standing in front of that hospital for two hours before a nurse noticed, came out, and tried to help her find her mom's car in the parking lot. A stupid five year old that only knew her mom's car was blue and her mom's name was Anne. There was no blue car owned by a woman named Anne.

A stupid kid who ended up a ward of the state, bouncing from home to home, school to school, in and out of juvy, a stupid kid who never got any smarter.

Maybe everything would've been different, if 'Mom' had kept her, or maybe things would've been worse. Because instead of being raised by some junkie, she was raised by a lot of good people who tried their best, and the last couple being Mark and Dana who applied for _adoption_. Who wanted to _keep_ her. Even if she was an angry, rebellious delinquent, who skipped school. Who royally fucked up and almost got expelled. Who dropped out and gave up for the longest time. Even if she was almost just as bad as her 'real mom' sometimes. People who _loved_ her.

People who believed in her, and believed she deserved a second...no, third...fourth?...Wait, fifth chance.

She rested her head against the window, taking her eyes off the dismal view of the alley, closing them, as she had her moment of crisis. The moment she realized that both she and her mother had a lot to do with this string of failures that held her back, kept her from moving forward. Kept her from having that perfect, story book type of life that other people had. The kind of life some people didn't have to work for because their parents were filthy rich jackasses.

She felt like she lost her only chance at avoiding becoming her mother.

A vibration under foot caused her to open her eyes.

"What the fuck?" She said aloud, looking down, trying to figure out why the floor was shaking.

An earthquake? In _this_ part of the country?

She screamed when the floor caved in and she went through the bottom. Freaked out for several reasons. One, the fucking floor fell through, two, there was a blinding white light coming out of it, and three...she was supposed to be on the ground floor. On concrete. There wasn't supposed be anything to fall into.

All these thoughts became secondary, in about five seconds, when she kept falling, even though she knew she should've met the bottom by now. The scream was replaced by shock and disbelief, the kind where not a sound came out as she continued to fall for at least a solid thirty seconds through this bright light.

Another life altering thought occurred.

"Holy fuck, am I dead?!....Ahhh!...Oof!"

When she hit the bottom, she hit so hard it knocked the wind out of her. She rolled over, gasping for air, trying to breathe, but find it hard to do so. Her ribs hurt, and likely they were broken. Other things felt broken too. White hot streaks of pain rushed through her limbs as if it took them a few seconds to realize they hurt, and seconds to send the message to her brain about the matter. But when she moved she cried out, so she gave up fairly quickly on the idea if getting up.

Well, she was very much a live. Dead people didn't feel any pain.

She stared up at the sky for a few minutes....wait.

The SKY?!

What the fuck?!

She lay there wherever she landed trying to come to terms with the fact that she was staring at a _sky_. Not the inner workings of a cave or abandoned mineshaft beneath a complex. A sky. Bright and blue, with puffy white clouds. The gleam of sunlight caught the corner of her eyes and she squinted.

"This is got to be dream," she said aloud, very weakly, and very strained, as it hurt to even talk. Then she jerked, startled, when someone remarked on that.

"It's no dream," said a woman, nearby, but not close enough for her to see. She tried to lift her head, just as the woman approached, blocking out the sunlight. "I assure you it is very real, Raven."

Ho...ly....shit.

If she didn't know any better, she would say that she was lying in a crumpled heap while a very real looking fictional character stood over her. Not just any fictional character, but one who was blindfolded, and wearing red and white gypsy looking clothes. She inhaled sharply at the woman who looked exactly like Theresa, from Fable. Only...real.

And she knew her name.

"You know my name?"

"Why so surprised?" Theresa asked very smoothly, as if she could do more than just see the future, but she could read her mind as well. "I've come to understand you know _a lot_ about this world for someone who's never visited, don't you, Raven?"

"This can't be real, it's not-"

"Possible?" Theresa predicted she would say. "I assure you it is very real, and I am not your imagination. Only in a sense that I am not really here. This is indeed a vision. A vivid one. However, as for the possibility of someone from your world being magically transported to mine...I...doubted such was possible."

"Wait...no...you're not really Theresa," Raven argued between labored breaths. The real Theresa would not say that she didn't know something was possible. The real Theresa could see all possibilities. Or at least all possible outcomes.

"Do you see any other blind seers of the Spire off the coast of Albion?" She asked, though not angrily, but calm and rather detatched. Like the real Theresa. Or...like the game Theresa. Or both. Something like that. Anyway, it sounded how she was supposed to sound.

"I am just as surprised as you, Raven," she said. "For such power is only reserved for Heroes, not seemingly ordinary people such as you. It seems evident that though you aren't a Hero, still, you're no ordinary girl. But whoever you are destined to be, it is not a Hero that bears the Guild Seal and channels Will through a gauntlet."

"Wait," she grunted. "Heroes. Magic travel. As in the Cullis gates of the Heroes Guild?" Theresa nodded. "But I'm not a Hero? So...if this...isn't some sort of fantasy where I'm the Princess of Albion or something, just why am I here, and why am I having a vision of you?"

"That...is for _you_ to decide. You do have the power to seal your own fate, though it may seem like something is inevitable. Because I see already that you have a great destiny. But that destiny must be yours to shape, Raven."

"So where am I?"

"Right now, you are in Bowerstone, though I managed to intervene before the people of the city noticed your presence. And at this moment in time, you are about to enter Albion during a time of great unrest. For as of this moment, King Logan sits on the throne, and his brother has not yet realized his own destiny, but will very soon."

Holy shit. The beginning of Fable 3. The game she was just about to play before the power went out. She was just about to start a new playthru. Was that a coincidence?

"So how do I get home?...Or are you even going to tell me?...I know you have a bad habit of only giving people bits and pieces of information."

Theresa only smiled at her spiteful tone.

"I show them only what they need to see," she told her, and Raven rolled her eyes at the ambiguous response. Yep. This was Theresa alright. "Whatever you thought possible was erased the minute you entered this world. And whatever outcome that was possible before is no more. Know that you _will_ change things, Raven. You have changed them already, but you are yet to know how. I believe it is your _destiny_ to change the course of history. But how you do so will be up to you."

Theresa reached out, offering her a hand, offering to help her up. Raven hesitantly took her hand to find it was real. Flesh, that she could physically touch, and while she could take it as proof that Theresa was no figment of her imagination, still, she couldn't believe any of this. She struggled to her feet. At least her legs weren't broke. She looked around to see they were in a field, and some semblance of grass was what broke her fall. But she fell a long way. How did she survive?

"So..." She winced and clutched her side as she wavered on her feet. "If I'm not supposed to go home yet, and I'm supposed to be here, how am I supposed to keep from royally screwing things up in Albion? I mean...urgh," she grunted again at the pain in her ribs, "I'm from a very different place, and I know way too much about this one, and..."

Theresa leaned her head, as if confused, or intrigued by that.

"It sounds as if you're afraid you'll upset the balance of the universe," she derided. "Have you already come to see yourself as having _that_ much power over fate?"

"I mean, isn't that what happens when you change the future? One wrong step and it all falls down?" Theresa said nothing. Raven groaned. "I've seen...erm...read stories where people travel back in time and end up making changes that cause chaos."

"You're not a time traveler, Raven. You have seen an outcome for Albion, I'm sure you think you know how the story _should_ end, but whatever you expect to happen has already changed, or...for all you know, was never intended to happen. If you weren't meant to be here, you wouldn't have come. Either way, whatever could've happened without your influence is no longer a possibility."

"Like...an alternate timeline?"

"Perhaps."

Raven was suddenly reminded why she sort of hated Theresa's character. She would've palmed her face but it hurt to raise her arm. This was the blind woman who played Heroes like pawns on a chessboard for hundreds of years to eventually reach an end goal that would nearly destroy the world because of a mistake she herself made. Did Theresa know Raven knew that about her? She wasn't about to test those waters now.

"I cannot take you home, even if you would wish it, for I've already foreseen that the Spire is not capable of such power," she then admitted, as if she could sense Raven's irritation, and was trying to set her straight, ease her doubts. "There is only one person in Albion that may have the power to take you home."

"A Hero?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Screw you Theresa.

"But I can heal your injuries. By the time you wake, it will be as if you never fell, and you will be properly dressed. That much I can do for you...For now."

Wow, okay, was Raven the only person that found it weird that a blind woman was making fun of her clothes? She glanced down at her faded jeans, her favorite t-shirt with Joker's face and the slogan, 'Its All a Joke.' Then at her hightops. Yeah, bad choice of outfits for a universe that was halfway between the Rennasaince and some sort of wild west steampunk mashup.

"Oh, and if I were you, I'd change my voice. No one in Albion has that accent. You'll stick out very sorely if you don't."

"Uh...alright then. How's this?...'You'll stick out very sorely if you don't'," she mocked.

"Hmm, it'll do. Now, it is time to take matters into your own hands. Choose your path wisely, and good luck, Raven."

"Wait, I-"

Raven didn't get a chance to ask anything else, and really wanted to smack Theresa when she sort of fainted, then opened her eyes to see she was somewhere new... _again_. Laying in the middle of an alley. But it was wrong to smack a blind person, even if they could see the future, right? Was assaulting the handicapped seers of Albion illegal or immoral at all?

Wait, had she been hallucinating? This alley looked a bit like the alley behind her apartment...ergh...room. And she wasn't in pain any more. Had she sleep walked outside and slept there?...Wait no. No she hadn't. She lifted her head, looked around, and saw she was in a back alley of what looked like Bowerstone's Old Quarter. It was real. And she looked down at her clothes.

Typical dress of a Bowerstone commoner. Dress, corset, striped stockings, laced boots and...bloomers. Even her underwear was Albion approved. And it was all grungy and worn, stained with soot and who the fuck knew what else. When Theresa said properly dressed, she meant it. Boy did she mean it.

She heard shouting and scrambled to her feet, hoping it wasn't city guards coming to arrest her for some random crime. She found it was the townsfolk, rushing down the street ahead of her. She caught snippets of the conversation when she edged closer. Sounded like something happened at Bowerstone castle.

Theresa said she already changed things just by being there, more or less, and the canon story that would be currently unfolding was officially non-canon, thanks to her mysterious appearance. She ran to catch up, following the crowd of people toward the castle, people gathering in the court yard, hoping she wouldn't learn the Prince and future Hero wasn't about to be executed, or something equally bad.

She had a feeling the potential protagonist was her ticket out if here.

There were shouts and cries, angry fists being waved, and a mass of loud voices all saying different things and it was confusing at first, hard to translate. All a muddle of words stringing together. She pushed her way through the sea of riled citizens to the front of the crowd, and then through it, to stop an execution if she had to.

Something she should _never_ have done.

It was rather ironic how she learned what day it was. For right about the time it dawned on her, was about the same time she realized there were two others at the front of the crowd, and she made the third person to get knocked down and dragged away by the guards. Dragged inside the castle for leading a protest against the King.

Thought to be one of the fucking ring leaders of the circus.

She tried to run and kick herself free of the two elite guards that had hold of her, terrified when she put two and two together and realized it was _that_ day.

The day Logan would force his sibling to choose between Elise or Elliot and the leaders of the protest.

And she was _one of them._

It was _that_ day.

And on that day it seemed Theresa was right, things changed, and now...she could possibly _die_.

She picked a bad day to finally believe in magic, didn't she?

Welcome to Albion, Raven, she thought. Oh and enjoy your _brief_ stay.


	2. How to Not Die Prematurely:

She was being escorted to her death.

Well, _possibly_.

Statistically speaking, she had a precise fifty-fifty chance of being shot in the next few hours. And her future all depended upon a stranger whom up until this point didn't actually exist, at least as far as she was concerned. But that was before she fell out of the sky. And whoever this Prince turned out to be, well, he now controlled her fate.

Or did he?

As she was dragged into the castle and then into the throne room along with a frantic looking man and woman, who only wanted to be able to work for fair wages, and as she admired Bowerstone Castle in the flesh, in all its glory, she comprised the likelihood of her death.

This was a game made real. This _could_ be _her_ game. _Her_ player character, and all the decisions _she_ would make for him, sprung to life. After all, was she not about to play this very game, but instead, by some unknown magical intervention, she was physically sucked inside it? And when had she ever sacrificed the poor, innocent factory workers in any of her playthrus?

That would be never. Elise/Elliot always begged to be killed, so selfless and heroically, so she indulged them, and one death to save three lives was more than fair. True that she sacrificed the cutest potential romantic partners, but still...

She took deep breaths, steeling her resolve, assured that the Prince would not choose her and her 'cohorts' to die today. She was not going to die today.

She was NOT dying today. Period.

The throne room was much larger than she thought it would be. Like a cathedral, wide, tall, and spacious, though with the familiar stained glass windows and purple trimmings. She eyed that particular shade of violet, knowing that very soon she would be meeting him face to face. Up close and personal. The man who wore that color. The hated King of Albion.

There he was, on the throne.

Confession: Raven always liked Logan. Logan was tall, dark, sinister, and rather good looking in her opinion. He made evil look so yummy. She preferred someone like Logan over a prissy little weasel like Elliot. Plus Elliot never gets any taller, and it was just weird to Raven. But considering Logan is the player character's sibling, well, yeah no further explanation needed.

Reaver was much in the same category, as far as Fable characters went. But he was too...eh. That's what he was. Eh. Reaver had no excuses, other than he'd lived way too long to stay good at heart. But Logan was nice and in between.  
  
But she always found herself far more attracted to fictional villains than heroes. Batman's villians, just to give an example. But she loved how complex the antagonist was always made to be. Deeper secrets, darker past, and something she found herself better able to relate to. No, she could never relate to the heroes. Not entirely. They were always far too sappy, hopeful and naive for her liking. She rolled her eyes at them. But a complicated villain? That she enjoyed.

No, it wasn't like she had aspirations of world domination, but she could certainly relate to having a complicated past.

But she wasn't on the other side of the screen anymore, and this particular, albeit ersatz, blend of villain, was going to execute her if his brother allowed.

This wasn't just a game anymore, even if it seemed surrealistic, and this was far more serious, a situation with real and lasting consequences, but though Raven was confident she'd get out of this situation, she couldn't help but be nervous. She had no idea how she changed things, if she changed anything at all.

And while she knew what King Logan did to his subjects, she had no idea what he was truly capable of, considering the entire game is played from the Hero's perspective. There were a lot of gaps, and a lot of things the Fandom Wikia page just didn't say about him. She couldn't be so sure if Logan was really what she thought he was or not.

And all she knew was that there was no one more cruel in all of Albion, save for maybe the 'king of industry', Reaver, the mad puppeteer that pulled King Logan's strings. But she _knew_ why Logan was so cruel. And that made every bit of difference.

The two factory workers beside her cowered in fear at their King, which was hardly a surprise, but Raven was more fascinated than anything at the moment. She all but froze in shock at seeing the man in the flesh, looking like a very convincing Logan cosplayer, but this was the real deal. And holy fuck was he better looking in person, she pondered shamelessly. He hardly paid any attention to them as they were dragged past the throne, and seconds later the Prince and Elise were escorted into the room.

She kept her eyes on him, searching for a flaw, any crack in the integrity of his performance, and found none. She noted on how the only difference was that he wore the crown, unlike in the game, which was odd. But she imagined there was some sort of explanation.

Though something about this situation felt off.

"Here come the saviors of the people. Come closer, little brother," Logan derided from his throne as the Hero and his lady friend crossed the long aisle, the Prince leading the way, looking nervous, but also determined not to show it. "Today you've disappointed me beyond measure," the King informed his brother. "I've been betrayed by my own blood."

Yeah, that line was always just a bit overdramatic. Though she watched his eyes when he said it. He meant it. He even sounded sort of...tormented. Like he was genuinely disappointed. Maybe from his perspective, the Prince genuinely betrayed him by going against him.

"And a filthy spy," he then spat, glancing at Elise, who scowled.

"We did nothing wrong!" She argued, and Logan stood up.

"Punishment must be apportioned where it belongs," projected the King, and much to canon, he then said, "You say you are no longer a child, brother, then it's time I stopped treating you as one. You wish to save the traitors who gathered outside the castle this morning. Very well, you shall have your chance to save them." He gestured to Raven and the other two prisoners. "Here stand the leaders of the violent mob," he said. Oh contraire, Logan, here stand two leaders and one unlucky bystander from a different dimension. "I will give you a choice. Who will be punished, these strangers, or this girl? The sentence will be death."

The Prince gaped in shock.

"No this can't be," said Elise.

"You are the Prince. Decide," ordered the King.

"Your Majesty, Logan, please-" Sir Walter tried to argue beside him. But he ignored him.

"I am giving you the power over life and death. Make your choice."

"No," the Prince shook his head, and took Elise's hand. "I-I won't do this. I can't do this."

"If you can't choose, I will. They will all be executed. So tell me, what are you willing to sacrifice to do the right thing?"

"This is madness," said Elise. "We can't, we just can't....choose me. You can't let them all die." She cupped the Prince's cheek in her hands. "Choose me."

Okay little Prince, now's your time to shine, and sacrifice Elise. Sorry Elise. Wish it didn't have to be this way.

"Make your choice, Frederick," said the King, rather impatiently.

Wait a minute.

Frederick?! Who the fuck was Frederick?! None of her characters were ever named Frederick! What sort of bullshit was this?!

The Prince sighed.

"I'm so sorry," he said to Raven and the others. To which the King accepted that he chose _them_ to die.

No. No that couldn't be right.

She was going to be executed?!

"No!" She shouted as the guards started to drag them away. "No, don't do this! You can't do this!"

The man next to her trembled, possibly pissed a little, and the woman started crying.

_Think of something you idiot! And fast, before you die! You don't want to die, do you?_

"Take them away to be executed immediately," barked the King.

No. No, she did not get sucked inside Albion just to die. Fuck that.

"No!" Raven protested, trying to yank herself free from the guards' hold on her. _Think, think, think!!_ "I know about Aurora!" She blurted, and Logan's face turned to one of mild shock, and some semblance of realization. "I know what Theresa told you! I know everything!"

That got his full attention. He motioned for the guards to stop trying to drag her away, once more she yanked her arm away from the guard, who let go, and everyone was staring at her in confusion, including Walter. But Logan was certainly interested in what she had to say.

"What is she talking about?" Walter asked, and Logan ignored him.

"Did she send you?" Logan asked her.

"No. But I know some things you'll probably want to hear. Let these people go free, and I'll tell you everything," she told him.

While everyone in the room sort of looked between the two of them in a bewildered manner, Logan locked eyes with Raven, and debated upon that option. _Dammit, come on Logan, just hear me out. I don't want to die today. You don't really want to kill me today, do you?_

_One way or another, I'm not dying today._

"Everyone out," he ordered. "Take my brother to his chamber. Take these traitors to the front gate, and...let them go free. Except for her." He pointed at Raven.

"Your Majesty-"

"I said everyone out now!" He barked, startling Walter, and everyone else present.

Walter left with the others rather reluctantly, and as the factory workers were escorted out, the guards dragged Raven toward the throne, as Logan sat down. He looked at the gaurds. "I said _everyone_ but her," he growled, and so the guards nodded, let go of her, and left the throne room. The doors shut behind them and it was just the two of them there.

Raven took a deep breath, and as Logan studied her for a moment, she took the time to mentally configure everything she knew about the man...Became King, traveled to Aurora, was attacked by the Crawler, saved by Kalin and her people. Made a promise to return and help them, but never came back. Left them to die, and instead spent the last several years building up an army to defend Albion from the Crawler, but made the people of Albion suffer for it. Forced his people to make a lot of sacrifices in return for their protection.

Forced people like Page, Ben and Walter to stand behind the Prince, _fucking 'Frederick',_ and start a revolution, causing many to die. Putting the Prince on the throne. A Prince who was apparently not connected to her characters in any way. A real person who made his own decisions, and could very well choose to make things much worse for Albion instead of better. A person Raven couldn't predict and she'd rather not leave her fate up to _that_ guy.  
  
Then she mentally calculated her odds and formed a plan.

She was taking destiny into her own hands. Just like the seer said she would, or should. Theresa said she changed things just by being there, that it was her destiny to change the course of history, so...fuck it, might as well change _everything_.

Starting with the King.

Logan leaned back and spoke calmly, carefully, as if this encounter made him very unsure of a lot of things. Well, he wasn't the only one feeling that way.

"So...what exactly is it that you mean to tell me that you think I should know?" He asked.

Well, she was still coming up with that part. But she hoped it was something that would keep her from getting killed.

She straightened her stance, held her chin high, hoping to give Logan the impression that she was not to be underestimated.

"I know about the Crawler," she said perking his interest a little, and he sat up straight.

"Did the people of Aurora send you?" He asked. She shook her head.

"No," she answered. "I'm not from Aurora."

"Then who sent you?"

"No one," she told him. "The truth is, I don't know how I came to Albion from my world, but-"

"Your world?" He repeated.

"Yes. I come from...another land."

"You look like a Dweller."

Raven curled her lip.

"Well I'm no factory worker. I sure as hell didn't come here to protest anything. Anyway, it doesn't matter where I'm from, only why I'm here. Your guards mistook me for a protester, but its just as well, because now I have an audience with you."

"And why did you come?" Logan asked, hardly believing of it. Well, she was stuck on that herself, and it took a few seconds to respond. He shook his head. "Just tell me what you know. Before I change my mind and have you shot."

"I know what happened in Aurora. You went there, and lost alot of men, then nearly died yourself." Logan didn't look too comfortable by that fact. "And I know that for the last couple of years you've been pouring all your resources into protecting Albion. But at a cost. The people have been suffering for it. They despise their King. They've been rebelling against you, and they'll continue to do so. A revolution is coming, and a lot of people will die."

Logan got up from his throne and approached her.

"If you value your life, tell me something I _don't_ already know," he menaced, making her back up a step. He reached for his sword, and she just knew where this was going, as he pulled it from its scabbard and pointed it at her throat. "Start talking!"

"Something you don't already know?" She repeated. "Alright... Before I left home I...saw how it all plays out. I know how it ends. I know exactly what will happen when the Crawler reaches Albion."

"A seer then? Is that how you know of Theresa?"

"No, I'm not a seer," she said, not allowing him to have any false ideas about her. "But I received a vision from Theresa, just like you. And like I said, I know how this is going to end. Or...how it _could_ end, without my help, and I don't think you want that ending."

_Not if your brother decides to execute you when he becomes King._

"She told you?"

Raven chuckled a little nervously, mostly because a very sharp blade was pointed at her. She reminded herself she'd been in worse situations, and shrugged. "She didn't have to tell me anything," she answered. "I already knew...Where I come from I saw what could possibly happen. So I'm here to change that. I'm...more like a time traveler. Here to erase the terrible future. Only, I'm not from the future. I'm from...well, its hard to explain, but-"

"Stop rambling and get to the point!"

"I'm trying here!"

"Try harder!"

"Dammit, look if I tell you everything, you'll probably just kill me anyway. And I don't plan on dying today, so I'm not telling you everything. At least not today. But I'll tell you I'm here to help you stop the war that's coming, and help you protect Albion. I mean holy fuck is that at least enough to get the sword out of my face?!"

She counted to five before he slowly lowered the sword. Apparently it was enough.

"Just how is it that you're meant to help me?"

Her lip twitched.

"You promise not to kill me?" She asked. "Because...you know, if you kill me, and can't help, and-"

"Yes, yes, I swear on the graves of the fallen Heroes of Albion I won't kill you," he said, rolling his eyes. Then he sheathed his sword.

Raven exhaled, as if she'd been holding her breath.

"Alright then." She swallowed, sort of making all this shit up as she went and said, "I'm here to help you win the war, by helping you avoid it. I can't guarantee I'll stop the Crawler from coming, but I can guarantee I'll help you defeat it."

"How?"

She chewed her lip. Good question. She had no idea, and needed more time to think.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

Well, that only pissed him off. He reached for his sword again.

"Look I can only tell you so much!" She rose her hands, preparing to be stabbed and he paused. "Too much information could fuck us both. It could end up making things worse." She sighed, totally exasperated at this point. "Look I'm tired, hungry, and I have no where to go. How about you put the sword away, let me get something to eat, and I'll tell you more later."

"Fine," he said, letting go of the sword. "You'll get all you require in Bowerstone's jail. How does that sound?"

"Jail?!" She raged. "Oh you've got to be kidding me. You're not winning any points here."

Logan sneered at her, eyes darting over her, taking a minute or so to debate his next move.

Then he left her standing there and walked down the aisle toward the door. "Follow me," he called, calmly, with a wave of a hand. Turning back to look at her when he didn't hear her move. "Now, or I throw you in jail."

That got her feet moving and she followed him to the door. He opened it and called to the first servant he saw. A maid, with short brown hair and a worried look, that the King should call upon her, and she eyed Raven with curiosity.

"Have the steward prepare some food for this woman," he ordered. "And provide her a room in the guest wing. See she gets proper clothing as well, and that she is treated like a guest."

"Yes, sir," the maid said, then walked away to do as she was told.

"There. Hospitality. As you so desired. The kitchen is down the stairs and-"

"I know where it is," she said. Producing an interesting look from Logan. "Thank you."

"What is your name?" The King then asked her.

"Raven," she answered with a nod.

"Raven," he repeated, as if he found the name mildly amusing, though not enough to smile, but enough to scoff at it. "Well, Raven, if you know what's best for you, this evening you'll tell me something worth hearing, won't you?"

"Yes, otherwise you'll kill me," Raven scoffed. "Don't worry, I _am_ actually here to help you, I'll have you know. No reason to act like I'm going to run off. Otherwise you'll send your guards after me and I'll die anyway. Trust me, I _don't_ plan on dying today, Your Majesty."

"Good, then we understand one another."

Logan walked away from her, headed toward the war room. When out of sight, Raven flopped back against the door. She glanced at the guard nearby.

"Heard any good music lately?" She asked, more or less just to see what he'd say. Nothing. Not a damned word. "What is this? Buckingham Palace?" She then derided. The guard slightly tilted his head, but for the life of him almost refused to speak. Raven snorted.

Well, she was alive. She wasn't dying today. Now, she just needed to figure out a way to stay that way.

Off to the kitchens she went, curious to all end just what sort of food the royal family of Albion was served, wishing she could punch whatever gods were out there, right in their damn throats.


	3. Let's Get Something Straight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trigger warning: asphyxiation)

Logan didn't deserve to die. Not any more than anybody else. Yes, he did a lot of fucked up shit to his country, but it was for the greater good, and not for his own personal enjoyment. Nah, that shit was Reaver's forte. Logan just got so used to being the bad guy that he stopped caring what people thought, and didn't even try to make it seem like he was guilty about it.

Or so Raven was hopeful of.

On the flip side, he really could be just as bad, if not worse than Reaver, because he had the power of the crown. The title of King. But he took his duty to Albion way too seriously. That vision from the music box could be interpreted many different ways. It might have been a vain hope to think so, but Raven hoped she might actually be able to change things up for the King.

And if not, that she could at least keep from dying until she figured out how to get home.

She believed the Hero was her shot, but she had no idea how to get to his room without looking suspicious, as guards were watching her every move, and she had no idea what Frederick would do next. Would he still leave the castle? Oh, and why was his name Frederick, anyway?

Was that what the Prince's name was supposed to be? After all, he's only ever called the Prince or the Hero in-game, and the name is left up to the player's imagination. Only her account ever had a name. It wasn't like some RPGs that allowed her to change the character name in-game. She wished she could have a conversation with the writers about it. Because it kept her from considering the fact that she wasn't actually sucked into her console, but transported to a dimension where Fable was real, and slightly askew.

But anyway, she was getting off topic. Point being, 'Freddie' was unpredictable, and she'd officially changed the course of the game, and who was to say what she affected.

She managed to buy some time, but eventually she'd have to either figure out a way out of this, or actually help the King, like she said she would.

So as she marveled at the fact that she was physically in the castle's kitchen, eating food while the servants worked, she contemplated her next move, and it pretained to Logan.

If she actually helped him, how would she do it?

According to canon, very soon Theresa would be telling the Hero about his abilities, and about his destiny as a Hero, then spend the rest of her time convincing him, or should she say _manipulating_ him into believing that he needed to rise against his brother. But if he did that, alot of people would die, and there was no guarantee he'd keep all the promises he made to get so many people to go to war with Logan. And most importantly, Logan could be executed, and for all Raven knew, she could end up being caught in the middle of it.

No, she couldn't just run to the Hero and say, 'No, wait, don't kill your brother.' If she did, she'd probably be perceived as a villain herself. No, she had to change Logan's fate by changing Logan. If he would listen to reason, be willing to follow along with her crazy plan, then maybe there would be some hope for the people of Albion. And maybe there would be some hope for him.

No, she couldn't guarantee that Frederick would keep his promises, but...well, if the Hero had to undo all that Logan did, what if...well, what if she could convince _Logan_ to do it? What if she could convince him to do things like abolish child labor? Give the Dwellers their land back, and everything the Prince promised to do? Then, there would be no reason for anyone to revolt against him. And she could be assured that those promises were kept.

Then, her only worry would be ensuring the treasury received the necessary funds some other way. She was always able to acquire the money for the treasury without breaking promises in her playthrus, so surely she could help Logan do it...right?

There were alot of 'ifs' in that, but surely it was worth trying. Maybe Walter and Frederick would even help them, once she laid down the plan for them, and once everyone knew the Crawler was coming, and knew how important it was that they protect Albion. Or maybe that's what she could do. She could forwarn the Hero of the coming threat, and Theresa could just get over it.

And if they started making changes now, that was all the more time they had to set things right before the Crawler came a'knocking. Yeah, much better than sitting around and waiting for the Prince to get his thumb out of his ass, right?

Maybe Theresa already guessed that this would be a better alternative to the original plan she laid out to get the Hero on the throne. Maybe it just took a modern girl thrown into a fantasy world to save the day.

Fuck it. Worth a shot.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Raven, the King of Albion was _already_ a changed man.

He stewed in the war room that afternoon, already scheming.

She changed him. The minute he saw her, he changed.

He didn't know what came over him, couldn't quite put his finger on it, per say, but when he heard her say that she knew about Aurora, something clicked in his mind.

She was certainly attractive. Not the sort of attractive that made a man willing to _die_ to be with her, but she was young, with flawless skin, and captivating eyes. Long dark hair, and though she was dressed rather poorly, he could sense a bit of high born in her blood. It was all in her attitude. Even if she looked like a Dweller. Terrible mouth, no sense of propriety, and no manners, but high strung. No, she was no Queen, but there was something rather becoming of her all the same.

She reminded him of his mother, the famed Hero of Bowerstone.

He wasn't sure yet if that was a good thing.

But he imagined her story was similar to Sparrow. Raised by gypsies, traveled the world, saw many places, faces, and eventually she ended up there, in Bowerstone, and supposedly had a vision, and knew the future, though she wasn't a seer, she said. But she knew more about Logan than he'd ever cared anyone to know. He could see it in her eyes, and it terrified him to be so exposed like that. And though she wasn't fond of dying, she wasn't afraid of him either.

He decided it was worth it to let her live, and indulge her, if only to see where this encounter would lead. He was very interested in quelling the impending war, and very bent on protecting the interests of the people of Albion. Of course, he was stuck wondering just what he would be expected to do in return for this assistance. He knew better than most that everything came with a price, and where a choice was made, there was always a consequence.

He was interested...right up until he was informed that his brother escaped confinement, and he wondered if the little black bird had anything to do with it. Raven knew far too much for it to be a coincidence, and it just so happened that only just that morning, Walter and his brother turned against him. And when he meant to make a point to Frederick and teach him a lesson, Raven intervenes?

Logan didn't believe in coincidence, and marched to the guest room she'd been provided, aiming to set things straight. He didn't bother knocking, and barged right on in, catching her in her undergarment, halfway between anger and shock.

* * *

Hehe, yeah, no.

Anger and shock were mild terms, that absolutely did _not_ properly describe Raven's current state of emotions.

Anger and shock would've been preferable.

First of all, she was half naked, slipping on a silk nightgown, and while it wasn't that revealing of an outfit, she didn't have a bra on, or anything underneath the gown. Theresa _took_ her bra, and anything that wasn't appropriate dress for her 'vacation' in Bowerstone. So when she was dressing, turned around to see the King of Albion barging in on her, anger and shock were the least of her concerns. She squeaked, and her face felt as hot as a furnace.

He didn't seem to be too concerned with her state of dress, and looked very pissed about something. Clarified when he demanded to know, "Where is my brother?!"

_Oh shit._

"Shit," she cursed aloud. "He's gone, isn't he?"

Logan closed the gap between them, grabbed her arm, startling her. "What did you do?!"

"Me?!" She squeaked. "I didn't do anything I just-"

"Where has he gone?!"

When Raven didn't immediately reply, he cupped her shoulders and slammed her against the wall behind her, pinning her against it. He assumed she had something to do with the Prince's disappearance, and meanwhile, she was simply trying figure out what to tell the man. Should she tell the King where he'd gone and why? Just how much information was too much information?

"I-I don't know," she said.

She regretted that.

His hand went around her throat, before she could stop him, and squeezed.

Everything in her body froze in fear.

She'd been in many fights, many terrible situations, but they were nothing compared to this. This was the worst thing a person could do in her eyes. She'd rather be punched in the face. She squirmed, grabbing his hand, trying to pry herself free, but the more she struggled, the harder he choked her, until she couldn't breathe.

"Please," she croaked, sounding so pathetic.

"I'm very tempted to kill you," he scathed, inches from her face. "So if I were you, I'd say something more useful than that."

He rescinded just enough for her to speak, and she wracked her brain. _Come on Raven, say something. Tell him something, please. Something, anything, to get this motherfucker's hand off your larynx._

"He's a Hero," she croaked, and he let go. Not completely, but enough to allow her to catch her breath. She slumped against the wall. Her knees felt weak. His hand remained pressed against her collar, and he gaped at her in shock.

"He's a Hero," she said again, much more evenly. "And he's halfway around the world by now."

"How is that possible?" Logan asked, not as if he didn't believe her, but more or less because he was curious to know. It seemed obvious just then that in this universe, Logan was never told the secrets of Heroes, either because no one trusted him with them, or because they thought he'd eventually learn on his own, if he showed any signs of being a potential Hero.

"I think there's something you need to see," she said. "Just...let me go, and I'll show you."

Logan considered that for a moment, before finally letting her go completely, backing up, and giving her space. She didn't bother dressing and threw a robe on over her gown, cinching it at the waist. "Come on," she said, waving her hand, and for whatever reason, probably because he was curious, he did as she requested, and followed her out the door.

This was probably the dumbest thing she could possibly be doing in Albion, but...well, fuck it. In fact, it seemed that 'fuck it' was becoming her internal catchphrase. Because things couldn't possibly be any worse, and even if they didn't get any better, well...fuck it, right?

Hey, you would probably do the same thing in her shoes.

Halfway down the hall, he asked, "Where are you taking us?"

To which she replied, "To the Catacombs. Time to pay your parents a visit."

He said nothing to that, but the expression on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Walter, Jasper, and Frederick were already gone, and already on their journey toward overthrowing Logan, so apparently she hadn't changed that. Whatever it was that she was meant to change, it wasn't that. That was fate's handiwork. Regardless of what happened that day, who lived or died, or who intervened, the Prince was destined to leave Bowerstone. She half thought that maybe Walter would've found her, asked her about the things she told Logan, inquired as to her part played in all of this, but she guessed wrong. Walter probably assumed that she was an enemy, or something to that degree, but either way, what happened that day was all the proof he needed to start the Prince down the revolutionary path.

When she and Logan were out in the garden, traipsing through the grass, taking the shortest route to the tomb, and Raven's bare feet suffered freshly cut grass between her toes, Logan asked, "Just what is it that you expect to find in my family's final resting place?"

"Trust me, you can't miss it. It's so obvious it's a smack to the face."

She could almost feel him rolling his eyes at her, but there was no way she was going to tell him anything until he saw it for himself. No amount of verbal explanation would do. Not without evidence to back it up, so why waste words?

When all of this could very well be a waste of time anyway?

What if all she was doing was encouraging the canon story to unfold? Just with slightly different, temporary divergence? What she would give to have another vision from Theresa right now. Or to _be_ Theresa right now. Didn't really help to change things if she didn't know what she was changing, right?

She stopped in front of the door to the Catacombs, but before Logan could procure the key to it, Raven pushed the door open, as it was still unlocked. Their eyes met for a moment, and she could see the one million and one questions dancing across his face.

"How did you know it was-"

"Unlocked?"

"Yes."

"Because I know way too much for it to be a coincidence."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Well, in your case, Your Majesty, that might actually be a good thing. And besides, if you don't like what I have to say, you can always have me shot, am I right?" She pushed the door completely open and waved him inside. "Come on," she said. "No need to keep destiny waiting."

Logan scoffed behind her, but nonetheless he followed her inside the dusty crypt, where the stuff of legends awaited.


	4. Second Chance

Oddly, both Raven and Logan were holding their breath when they entered the crypt, and to each their own as far as reasons. But Raven's anticipation, more or less, was due to hanging on to the King's every breath to see whether or not he'd end up killing her. Yeah, it all came back to Raven's determination to live another day. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn't care.

She hoped she wasn't helping the bad guy out here, and only resorting to villainy, or making things much worse, but some small sliver sort of clung to the hope that Logan really wasn't as bad as she thought. After all, there were many people back home that would take one look at her and assume she was a lost cause, right? Whether it was the color of her skin, or her bad track record, people looked at her like she was a waste of time and space. So she knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of that kind of treatment.

She was on her fifth chance, remember?

She wasn't about to treat Logan that way. _Just_ yet. She'd give him the benefit of doubt first.

He said nothing as he crossed the entry way and approached the hidden staircase left open. He stared at the symbol on the floor for a minute or so, and she took a deep breath, bracing for his harsh reaction. But none came.

"Where does this staircase lead?" He asked calmly, a little _too_ calmly, in fact.

"To a grotto, that eventually leads to a Cullis gate. A device that can only be accessed by Heroes. It's activated by magic. Specifically, Frederick's magic. There's no way to open it. The last Hero of Albion hid it to keep its location safe."

"My mother put this here?" He asked, still not looking at Raven, but keeping his eyes on the stairwell, and the Guild symbol that activated by magic to open it.

His mother? Fancy that.

Interesting, that in this world, the Hero was the _Queen_. She'd made several female Sparrows, but in Fable 3 the previous Hero was defaulted as a male. Another fact she stored in the back of her mind for later reference. Another clue leading her to believe that this world was separate from her game. Totally unique. Not _that_ unique, but, you know, not something she could predict verbatim.

"Yes," she said, to answer his question. "It's how Walter and Frederick escaped."

"And where does the Cullis gate lead?" He then asked, slightly more irratated. She took a deep breath.

"That, I can't tell you."

He looked up.

"And why not?" He demanded, stepping closer. Hand barely touching the hilt of his sword. As if he were one step away from drawing his weapon, depending on what she said to him.  
  
"Because it doesn't matter. It's Frederick's destiny to discover his Heroic abilities, and no matter what you do there is no changing that. He's not your enemy but he thinks he is. He's already on his way to gathering allies to rise against you as we speak. He thinks you're his enemy. He thinks...you're _Albion's_ enemy. He doesn't know that he's only a pawn on the board of a much larger game. The revolution has already started."

"Then tell me what your grandiose idea to stop this revolution is," he then demanded.

She sighed.

"Stop oppressing Albion," she suggested, testing the waters.

His follow-up argument was, "Do you think I _happily_ oppress my subjects for the thrill?! The sacrifices that are made are for the greater good of Albion. You said so yourself that you know what is coming to Albion, and I cannot ensure their safety by giving in to their demands!"

Her knees wanted to buckle at the way he profoundly spoke. It was almost awe inspiring. Almost.

And thank heavens, that she was right about him. It took everything in her just then to not squeal victoriously. Instead she simply nodded.

"Yes, I know that. But the people of Albion don't really give a flying fuck about their safety, Logan!"

"Must you constantly curse like some-"

"Okay I get it!" She huffed. "No cursing! The point is, the people revolt because of your tax policies, child labor, poor wages, closing Brightwall academy, taking the Dwellers' land," she counted everything off one by one on her fingers. "As long as your iron fist attitude continues, you're going to have a war on your hands. And you dont want that. By all means, stab me if you want, but hear me out first. I can help you secure an army to defeat the darkness coming, without having to make those sacrifices."

She breathed heavily after that, redfaced, feeling like she ran a mile. Felt like she had to talk a mile a minute just to get everything out before he stabbed her.

Agonizing silence followed, until he finally said, "You can?"

"I can...You can't make an enemy of your brother. He's a Hero. Whether you like it or not. You can't stop him from pursuing his destiny. And...he can defeat the Crawler. For good. You'll eventually need him on your side. But I can help you accomplish all that, while still protecting your kingdom."

"How?"

"Well, you're going to have to trust me, for one thing. And...here's the part you may not like." Again, she braced. "I need access to the treasury. Or, well, to be on the safe side, just give me full access to everything in the war room."

"What?!"

_And here comes the sword._

He reached for it, but Raven was already sprinting to the other side of the stairwell, distancing herself from Logan and his magnificent blade. "I told you that you weren't going to like it," she defended. "But you have to trust me! Or at least let me finish explaining!"

"You have five seconds!"

"Five seconds?!" She raged. "That is not enough time to explain!"

"Your allotted time is dwindling," he warned. She growled.

"When Frederick wins the war, which he _will_ , he will have made alot of promises to the people of Albion to secure their support," she rushed to explain. "Promises he will have to keep when he rises to the throne."

Meanwhile, Logan looked shellshocked that she just told him Frederick would become King.

"But..." She held up a finger as if to say, 'Wait, there's more'. "If he keeps those promises, it will cost a lot of money to do so, money the crown doesn't have, because it's too busy building an army, and that's where I come in. I can help you keep those promises, make those changes now, to keep Albion happy, all while ensuring the treasury receives the necessary funds. I've done it before, I can do it again. And if we start now, that's all the faster we secure the citizens' safety before the darkness reaches Albion."

Logan leaned his head to the side after such admittance.

"Wait a minute...done it before?" He asked, and she chewed her lip. Dammit, she didn't mean to say that. But she just sort of blurted everything out didn't she? Fuck.

"Yes. Sort of. You remember I said I'm sort of like a time traveler, and that I saw what could possibly happen?" He nodded. "I've...seen it all play out, and I know where everything went wrong. I was sent here to change that. That is precisely the reason I've come. To change the outcome. I'm here to give you a second chance, Logan."

She gasped, when suddenly the room started spinning, and everything got bright. Whatever it was that Logan was going to say, he didn't, because he was frozen in place, and Raven gaped in shock. She knew what was happening. Holy fuck. A vision. Confirmed when Theresa stood before her, in the middle of an empty field, beside an ethereal, frozen Logan.

"Well done," the seer told her, in that altruistic tone she sported. "You've realized your destiny. And you've just taken the first step toward your role in liberating Albion."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You knew this was going to happen?!" Raven exclaimed. "Eh, who am I kidding, of course you knew." She palmed her face.

"Yes, I did," Theresa confirmed. "I foresaw this outcome when you arrived. I knew that you would take a step toward changing the kingdom's future, and so I encouraged it. I see all possibilities, remember? And I saw the potential in allowing you to change the course of events, to take the path that deviates from what you _thought_ was meant to happen."

Wow. Here she was trying to be unpredictable, totally winging it, and here the blind seer tells her she's doing exactly what she's meant to?...Lovely.

"You saw the potential? As in..."

"As in yes, Raven, you were correct to assume that I already foresaw what would happen should you 'tamper with fate'."

"So this is actually what I'm meant to do? Help Logan change Albion?"

"If such a thing can be accomplished, only _you_ have the ability to accomplish it. Your knowledge of the potential future for Albion may redirect the course of history, or you may only further it to happen. But it is your destiny to try."

Raven sighed.

"Alright then. So what's your sound advice on the subject?"

"You have precisely six months to gain the King's trust, and encourage Logan to amend his policies, all while ensuring the amount the treasury requires is met. If you do not, six months from now, a war will come to Bowerstone regardless and many innocents will die."

Only six months?!

"Six months is not enough time to-"

"Six months is all you have. For after six months, it will be precisely one year before the Crawler attacks, and if nothing has changed, history will unfold as intended. With or without your intervention. And remember to act wisely, Raven, for every decision made has a consequence."

Upon those words, Theresa disappeared, and the brief interlude from time resumed, and Logan started moving again. She completely forgot what they were talking about. And for all he knew, time had never stopped ticking away at all.

He furrowed his brow and studied her carefully. "No...you specifically said you did it before. Not that you saw it. Just...who are you, exactly?"

She sighed.

Then she took the chance of stepping closer to him. Taking into consideration everything Theresa just told her. Six months to gain this man's trust. Six months to change the outcome. Six months to undo the damage Logan did, and also allowed Reaver to do. Six months of being  _trapped in Albion._

"The person who's going to keep you from being executed," she emphasised.

"Executed?" He repeated, and she nodded.

"There is a possibility that when your brother sits on the throne, and Albion calls for your head on a silver platter, he will give in to their demand and...have you shot." She stepped just a little bit closer. "I'm here to save your life. I'm here to change everything."

He looked her over, from top to bottom, probably trying to ascertain the truth in that. But it was no lie. Hopefully he could see that. See that she meant every word.

"This is alot to accept with hardly any proof," he said.

Yeah. Yeah it was.

"Technically, you sort of saved my life today. You stopped your guards from executing me, when you really didn't have to, I suppose. You took a chance on me, you took the time to hear what I had to say...Now, I'm going to return the favor. I'm going to take a chance on you. Because deep down, I know you're trying to do the right thing. But...you have to trust me."

He put his sword away.

"Just what makes you think I so desperately need your help in the first place?" He then questioned.

"Because I'm not Theresa," she said. "I don't play the sort of game she plays. She only told you what you needed to hear. But I know just as much, if not more, than she does."

That seemed to do the trick. He sighed, glanced around the chamber one last time, looking as if he would say, 'Gods, I hope I don't regret this.' Then he turned to leave.

"How about you and I have a drink," he offered. "Then further discuss just how much you know."

"I'm up for the strongest bottle you have," she said, following him out if the crypt.

* * *

Logan reclined comfortably in the chair across from Raven's in his study, just outside the war room, though he was by no means comfortable. But this was preferable to tossing and turning in his bed from fitful sleep and the pressures of the crown weighing him down. At least this was somewhat productive, as he listened to the woman across from him, still barely clothed, drink in hand.

He was still trying to piece everything together, and nothing quite added up. While he could believe that the pragmatic seeress gave her information about him, it didn't make sense as to why she knew everything about him. And his brother being a Hero. Oh and his mother too. She knew more than just the future, she was familiar with the past as well.

She said she wasn't a seer, and that she didn't come from the future, but...

And she seemed to have him pegged perfectly, right down to his mistrust, his willingness to kill her without thought if she proved to be a threat, and his sense of duty to Albion. Everything. She knew everything. Had an answer for everything too. Told him everything too. Though...she refused to divulge where she was from, or how she received a vision of the future.

And how she said she'd done it all before.

"So, here's one possible outcome," she relented. "If Frederick does not secure the funds to protect Albion, everyone will die. And I'm not being melodramatic about that either. That right there should be all the motivation you need to let me help you."

Oh, and there was another thought that vexed him. Her accent. He could tell it was fake. While it sounded convincing to one not careful enough to pay attention, there were certain things she pronounced differently, and certain euphemisms she used that weren't common in Albion. It was not her natural speaking voice, and obviously she made an attempt to sound like your average Bowerstone dock worker. And he wondered why. Also wondered what her natural speaking voice sounded like.

Wondered if it was appealing in any way. But before he allowed himself to go too far down the rabbit hole in that particular area, he reminded himself that he was probably twice her age, and by no means had any business being attracted to her. Instead he further listened attentively to her words.

"You can't guarantee that your brother would be any better of a ruler, any smarter, or anything less than how the people of Albion see you. As a tyrant. No offense."

"None taken," he told her. "If that is how the people of Albion view their King, then its only natural that they rebel. And you aim to change that?"

"I do," she nodded.

"And you truly don't trust my brother to make the right decisions?"

"Well, I'm not saying he won't. Or that he can't. All I'm saying is your brother is unpredictable. He's a person, with a mind of his own, not a...a puppet on a string. I've seen the possibilities. I could give you scenarios to consider. But like I said, I'm not a seeress, so I can't tell you exactly what he's going to do. Only what he's capable of."

"So you don't trust him?"

"No, I don't trust him," she admitted with a chuckle. "And more importantly I can't control him."

"You could if you told me where he is," Logan reminded. She let out a sigh.

"No, I can't. There's no version of the future where apprehending your brother works out in our favor."

Logan reluctantly accepted that answer, tipped his glass, and drowned his agitation with liquor.

"One question," he leaned his head to the side, propped it up with his elbow, suddenly comfortable enough to ask. "...If the people of Albion see me as some terrible villain, which is what you claim I've become to them...why is that you don't?"

She stopped fiddling with her whiskey glass and looked up at him. Then she sort of chuckled a little.

"Maybe because you and I have a lot in common," she told him. "Look I'm not going to pretend to be some sort of Savior here. In fact I'm...well I'm probably a terrible person. Selfish. Definitely selfish, and part of me helping you is because I simply don't want to get caught up in a war, and I'm not very fond of premature death." She took a drink. "But like you I've had to do a lot of bad things, for the right reasons."

"And just what sort of things have you done that were so terrible?"

"I'm not answering that."

"You're not going to tell me one single personal thing about yourself?"

"Nope. That's my price. I won't ask anything from you but that. That's the deal. You can't know about my past. No one can. You can take it or leave it."

He scoffed. "That's very one sided, don't you think?...What's so terrible about your past? What...did your mother not love you enough as a child?"

Her eyes darted to his in that instant, and she looked as if she would shoot him in the face had she had a pistol. She took that personally.

"No. She didn't. She left me on the side of the road when I was five," she spat. Ah. That explained everything. And he'd struck a personal chord.

"I apologize," he amended, making a silent vow to refuse to mock her any more than necessary in the future.

"Wow, so he _can_ apologize for something," she derided, feining surprise. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "But you still owe me a second. You choked me earlier and I haven't forgotten that."

"I'm sure you'll find some way to make me pay for it."

"I'm sure I will."

They stared at one another for a moment. Both sets of eyes narrowed, both glasses raised halfway to their mouths. Both individuals carefully guarding their true feelings for a moment. Yes, they had a few things in common. Namely, that neither seemed to care what anyone thought of them. And...more notably, the brief spark of attraction between them. For a split second, he could see it. The feeling was mutual.

He downed the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on a stand.

"Get some sleep," he suggested, rising to his feet. "You'll need it."

He started to leave the room.

"Warm tea and a midnight snack," he heard her say, and in his confusion he turned around at that.

"Pardon?"

"The tea will calm your nerves, when the drink wears off, and you'll sleep better on a full stomach. I...don't really have a cure for nightmares though. Just...think happy thoughts I suppose."

The hair raised on the back on his neck.

He glared daggers at her.

"How did you know that I-"

"I told you, I know what happened in Aurora," she said, no longer phased or even surprised by his irritation. "Something like that is bound to affect a man."

He tore himself from the room in that instant, uncomfortable, absolutely livid, and once more feeling exposed by her uncanny knowledge of him. Just then, he was second guessing his decision to let her live. But...well, at least she reserved judgement on the matter. He put it completely out of his mind by the time he reached his chamber, and instead lay awake and sleepless that night wondering where in Albion his little brother could possibly be.

Trying to ignore the way Raven got under his skin.


	5. The Road to Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, now that we know what Raven's destined to do for Albion, are we curious as to how this changes things for the Hero?
> 
> Hell yeah we are!
> 
> So let's find out, shall we?
> 
> Then we'll find out just how Raven and Logan will flock together to change things up for Albion ;)

While Logan was lying sleepless in his bed, and Raven was pacing in her room, desperately needing a cigarette, the Prince of Albion also had a laundry list of worries to keep him far from calm, as he sat, freezing his royal hide off, in the mountains of Mistpeak that night.

Yes, that was where the Cullis gate lead. After first leading to an interesting alcove of his mother's called a Sanctuary.

Oh but that was only the half of it. After coming to terms with the fact that he could harness magic through channeling Will, and the fact that he was a tried and true Hero, just like his mother, he then replayed over and over in his mind the interesting turn of events that brought him there, to the Dweller camp, led by a crotchety old thing named Sabine.

* * *

' _I can't believe he was going to make me kill all those people,' he had said, when Jasper walked into his room that evening. 'And Elise. Poor Elise. She didn't deserve to be treated like that.'_

_'Yes, that was terribly dreadful of His Majesty,' his Butler agreed._

_'And if it wasn't for that girl, they would have...I wonder what she knows about my brother. What about Aurora, and this Theresa woman.'_

_'Theresa,' said a voice from the back door, 'Is an old family friend.'_

_They turned to see Walter._

_'Walter who was that girl? The girl in the throne room? Do you know her?'_

_'No, but whoever she is, she spoke up just in time to stop your brother from doing something terrible. I have no idea where she fits in all of this, but I know one thing. It's time someone put a stop to this madness.'_

_'Just what is it that you mean to do?' Jasper inquired of the man._

_'We're leaving Bowerstone. This kingdom needs a Hero. It's time to see if he's ready.'_

_'Ready for what?' Frederick asked._

_'To be your mother's son,' Walter answered._

_Their escape route took them to the Catacombs, his mother's burial tomb, and there inside were his parents in their resting places. And an interesting symbol on the floor. Blue and gold, and sort of an odd figure eight shape. He'd never seen it, but it felt familiar to him somehow. As if he should know what it was._

_Walter searched for a minute until he found a hidden mechanism in the brick, pressed it, and the statue before them lowered its arms to reveal that symbol in the palms of its hands, only smaller._

_'This was your mother's most treasured possession. The Guild Seal. It chooses those who have the power inside them. Take it.'_

_Well, he took it. Then a peculiar thing happened._

_And a peculiar woman appeared._

_'Hello Frederick,' she greeted, though...she was blind. She couldn't see. How did she know...'I am Theresa, the Seer of the Spire.'_

_'You're the woman I heard about!' He exclaimed excitedly. She smiled at him._

_'Yes. I guided your mother in her greatest triumph, but you have an even greater destiny ahead of you. The Seal awoke at your touch, as it would at no one else's. This means that the fate of Albion rests on your shoulders.'_

_'The...the fate of Albion?'_

_'Yes. There is a great evil that threatens the kingdom, and only you can defeat it. But you cannot do it alone. You will need allies. You've already met one of them.'_

_Just then a sparkling image of her appeared._

_'The...the girl!' He gasped. 'She's an ally?'_

_'Yes. Her name is Raven. Like you, Raven is very powerful, though she knows not of what that power entails just yet. She is also on a journey, and must discover her destiny on her own for now, as must you. But very soon, she will need your help. Hers is a very dangerous path to take. But she has a chance to change your brother's life, and his fate, as do you.'_

_'So...what do I have to do?'_

_'Your brother has been manipulated by Reaver,' she explained. 'Corrupted and turned from a riotous path. It is through Reaver's influence that your brother oppresses Albion. Raven is set on a path to guide your brother out of the dark, but ultimately Reaver must be dealt with to ensure the safety of Albion. In order to liberate the kingdom from tyranny, you must first defeat him. But Reaver is no ordinary man. More than merely the leader of industry. His skill in combat has had no equal. He is quite powerful as well._

_Not even your brother can oppose him. And only a Hero could stand against him. That is your destiny. But Reaver has many followers, and you will need many as well. You already have the support of two allies. Jasper who will serve you always, and Sir Walter Beck, who will be your guide.'_

_It was then that Theresa gifted him with a magical gauntlet that could channel Will. Just like in the stories. He was able to use the magic to open a passage out of the Catacombs for them, and it was then that Frederick explained all he'd learned to Walter and Jasper._

_'I knew it,' Walter shucked. 'Balls...I knew that man was trouble the second he moved his business into Bowerstone.'_

_'And he's turned my brother into a monster.'_

_'Well, we'll put a stop to all that nonsense, won't we? With a Hero on our side.' He patted Frederick's back. 'I just hope that seer is right, and that Raven girl turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Come on. Let's get out if here.'_

* * *

Eventually they made their way to Mistpeak. Their first stop on their journey to search for allies. Their best bet was to search for the people who'd been most oppressed by Logan's rule, and Reaver's industry. Sabine was one such person, whose land had been taken in the name of progress.

He agreed to ally with them on two conditions. Well, technically three. One, deal with the mercenaries causing trouble for Mistpeak. Two, retrieve an artifact beneath Brightwall academy, Fred could only imagine why, three, promise to convince Logan to let them have their land back, and four...Oh, yes, right. Four not three. And four, convince the people of Brightwall to donate some supplies to help feed the starving Dwellers.

All in a days work for being a Hero, right?

Things like that kept him awake that night.

Things like that made him miss Elise's beautiful smile, a laugh so warm and bright it could melt the mountain ice. He shivered when a breeze picked up, thinking of holding Elise in his arms, before adjusting his collar and venturing down the mountain, aiming to meet Walter in Brightwall and start gaining the alliegence of the people of Mistpeak.

* * *

Raven woke up way too early the next morning. Mostly because a maid came in at the crack of dawn, opened a curtain, blinding her with light, saying, "There you go, Miss Raven. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

No, this wasn't the game's opening scene, but she'd be damned if she didn't have the same reaction as the Prince/Princess. 'Go away' was on the tip of her tongue.

Clothes were laid our for her, clothes that looked _suspiciously_ like the Princess formal dress, and she guessed it was predisposed clothing the castle had on hand, or the selected outfit purchased from Bowerstone market. After all, it was available. She just...well, she didn't actually think she'd be wearing it. And it itched like crazy, the corset didn't fit because her breasts were way too big, but at least she could forego wearing the stupid head piece.

She was immediately introduced to a manservant named Darcy. Darcy, she learned, was elected by the King to be her personal assistant, though Raven guessed it was more like Logan wanted someone to watch her like a hawk while she snooped around in his war room. But either way, the older gentleman with thinning gray hair was like her own personal Jasper. Even talked similarly. It was a butler thing.

She was just glad sniveling Hobson wasn't galavanting about, breathing down her neck.

Darcy unlocked the war room and allowed her inside, upon which she instantly paled. There was no treasury. At least...not like in the game. The treasury was not a vault. Instead it was a safe, with a tumbler lock, and was certainly not a chamber where one could just pile mountains of gold and jewels. Well, in a way that was a good thing. Because there was still a ledger that kept a detailed account of the royal expenses, and that was more accurately what she needed access to.

It wasn't like she needed to pull a Scrooge McDuck and bathe in a mountain of gold.

Though the ledger was a disappointing read. Upon realising that Raven was not about to ask Darcy to unlock the safe and hand her money, he left her alone to commit expenses to memory, upon which she realized there was no money at all to count. Not like what there should have been. Much like a bank would tie up personal funds, the treasury was tied up in investments.

Yes, investments that pertained to military funding, but there was no actual cash flow. A zero balance. Oh, and the required amount was different. Though still steep, when compared to how much things actually cost in Albion.

On the chance that she could buy up all the property available in Albion, before Frederick got the wild idea to become an entrepreneur, and start collecting rent to fill the crown's coffers, she'd need accurate assessments of the property values, cost of maintainence and a ballpark figure of rent and property taxes. Assuming people in Albion paid property taxes. Only then would she have a number to toss against the wind as far as how much money she could actually pool into the treasury.

But even if there was no money outright, she still had collateral. And that was saying something. As long as she could convince the king to fork over his assets to her loving hands, she could make some financial magic.

But this was the information she needed. The numbers in the ledger told her everything she needed to know. Number crunching she could handle. The day was not over yet. Only just getting started.

Nice to know that her two years of community college were being put to use.

And that was when it hit her.

Thinking about the University turning down her application made her remember.

She never called Dana back.

Dana and Mark had no idea where she was, and she'd been missing for almost a day now. Or longer. She couldn't be sure of the correct time. The last thing she said to Dana was, 'I'll call you back later', and she never did. Dana was probably worried sick, thinking she was kidnapped or something. And she had no way of contacting her foster parents. But the worst part, the part that made her feel guilty as sin, was that she never even thought about it.

She'd been too busy trying to convince the king of a fictional world not to kill her.

And she was trapped here.

_For six months._

And right now, at that very moment, on the other side of the country, was a Prince turned Hero that planned to take the throne from Logan, possibly execute his brother, and maybe her as well, once he learned she was helping Logan. If she didn't turn things around, that was what fate had in store for her.

Just when she thought her morning couldn't be worse...

It got worse.

* * *

Logan's morning went as well as to be expected, considering how dour things were.

Frederick missing, off on some adventure to discover his destiny as a Hero until eventually he gathered enough allies to put Logan six feet under. The troubling state of the kingdom's finances. Oh, and the people of Albion rallying against him. He'd had all night to toss and turn and pace and think. Then...toss, turn, pace and think some more.

Raven seemed very adamant about preventing his execution. Seemed believable enough, considering how the people of Albion treated his rule. But the thought of dying at the hands of his brother while failing to protect Albion absolutely terrified him. It kept him awake the night before, more so than any other thought.

He wondered if she guessed that about him.

She was terribly vexing, caused him to scratch his head in wonderment, and for the life of him he could never remember being this perplexed by a woman before. Women were usually terribly easy for Logan to figure out, which was why he never married. Quims, the lot of them. But this one? This one made his head spin. He almost didn't want to face her that morning.

But there she was in the war room, and instantly he was disturbed. For all the time he spent that night trying not to think about his attraction to her, she completely erased it that morning. She didn't notice him enter, so he stared. Unabashedly stared, for the first minute or so, as she was sprawled across his furniture, reading his financial records like an enthralling romance serial, and her dress was hiked up past her knees. One leg bent, the other stretched, and she tapped her foot on the leather.

He ground his teeth a little.

"Ahem," he addressed, loudly and obnoxiously, making her look up at him, as if to say, 'What did I do now?'

"Morning," she greeted.

"Sit up!" He barked, and she did so, but not before her face scrunched up into a sour expression. "I'm kind enough to allow you access to my private affairs. The least you can do is refrain from having the manners of a hobbe, and pull your skirt down, why don't you!"

She huffed, stood up, and thankfully straightened her attire, but then she snapped closed the Treasury's ledger, laying it on a nearby table, proceeding to prattle off a feminine tirade.

"I'm trying to help you here and your going to worry about my skirt?! I'll have you know I am very uncomfortable in this skirt, and I'm very far from home, I can't contact any of my friends or family and I haven't had a smoke since I got here! I've been trying to figure out this mess all morning and I'm tired! Because apparently nobody gets to sleep in past the crack of dawn, which is absolutely ridiculous! So if you're going to give me shit about my skirt, buy me a better outfit!...The nerve you have!"

She let out a frustrated growl, and Logan felt like he needed to throw up a shield, or hide behind a barricade, for at any moment she'd start spitting fire at him.

He inwardly groaned a little. Women. No sense whatsoever. And this one in particular didn't seem to care that she was getting mouthy with the King of Albion. Hardly at all. And then, but of course, as women were oft to do, she flipped switch again. She flopped down on the couch and hung her head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just stressed."

"I know the feeling," he mumbled as he walked over to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a metal case. Then, standing right in front of her, he flipped it open and lit a cigarette, waiting for her to notice. It was like a hound catching the scent of a rabbit, the way her head snapped upward. Her eyes lit up like a child watching fireworks.

"Oh thank heavens! You have cigarettes here!" She exclaimed.

In her _natural_ voice.

He handed her the case, then distanced himself, leaning against the map behind him. He looked away from the face she made when lighting a smoke and taking a drag. Like it was best thing she'd ever tasted, or she was having an _orgasm_. That thought certainly made him uncomfortable. They were silent for a minute. Until he finally let out a sigh.

"You slipped just now," he told her.

"What?"

"You dropped the accent," he clarified, and her jaw dropped.

" _Shit_."

"For whatever reason you have for using it, you might want to be a bit more careful," he suggested. "But...I see now that you were telling the truth. You're not from Albion. Nor are you from Aurora."

She nervously ran fingers through her hair. "Nope, I'm not," she said, foregoing the accent. "And this has to stay between us. You don't want that kind of attention. People asking where I'm from, how I got here, you know, all that. It'll cause a lot of problems. Better that people think I'm from Bowerstone."

"Well, they certainly won't think you're from Millfield. Not with that attitude."

She scoffed at his remark. He sighed a little, then snuffed out his cigarette, and walked over to the safe, unlocking it and procuring a small coin purse. "Here," he said. "I think the kingdom can afford one comfortable set of clothes without upending." He handed her the money, to which she looked surprisingly grateful. "Have Darcy take you to Bowerstone market and get whatever you want."

"Wait...you're letting me leave the castle?"

"Would you rather I didn't?"

She chuckled a little. "How about I just shut up and say thank you."

"That would be wise," he remarked, then watched her walk away, practically clicking her heels. Oh but then she just had to turn back, didn't she? That she did.

"Oh, is there anyway you can have someone get me a listing of properties available for sale in Albion?" She asked. "Before you question it, just trust me. I'll explain when I get back."

He rolled his eyes, then nodded, and watched her squeal in delight before bounding away.

Gods, there was just something about that woman.

He didn't know what it was.

But it was something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap. Cue the music. Reaver just got bumped to main antagonist status! Did anyone see that coming? Don't worry Reaver fans, it'll turn out pretty interesting in the end.


	6. Dressed For Success

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter's dedicated to jane :D)

Raven knew without a doubt that Logan's sudden spark of generosity was only to shut her up and keep her content so that she would help him, and refrain from getting on his nerves, but her inner valley girl was totally ecstatic at the idea of going shopping.

Shopping in _Albion_.

Plus, it kept her mind off of things like Mark and Dana filing a missing persons report, or the diner calling her cell phone, which was probably ringing off the hook, so to speak. People missing her, people worried for her. Wondering why she didn't show up for work or call them back.

It kept her from biting her nails over things she couldn't do anything about. Not while she was stuck in an alternate dimension. Without a phone or internet access. And even then, if she had a phone, how the hell would she call people on another plane of existence? They didn't exactly have a 411 for that.

Darcy didn't talk much on their casual stroll to Bowerstone's market place. But that was alright, because it meant he didn't ask any impertinent questions either. Pointed out places of interest, as if she were a tourist, and she didn't have the heart to tell him she already knew where everything was. He was actually pretty nice. For a butler. For a man of servitude educated in the art of principal living. A savant yes, but not a snobby one.

"Might I suggest you stand a little straighter, Madame," he suggested as she window shopped in front of the weapons and ammunition outlet. "Slouching _has_ been known to cause the occasional back pain from time to time."

She chortled. "That's good advice, Darcy," she said. See, now that's the sort of things she needed to teach Logan. Nice ways of correcting someone's mannerisms without sounding like a disgusted mongrel.

Darcy smiled kindly and said, "Happy to oblige, Madame." Then they continued their tour of the marketplace before making their final stop at the tailor's.

With Raven walking a bit more lady like, of course.

Now, while the tailor did have a few things on display up front, just like in the game, there was also a room in the back where the real fashion magic happened. More like an actual store, and less like a fictional world. A matron came to take her measurements and offered to show her the latest selection of fashion, to which she declined and asked if she could simply sift through everything herself. She was shown to the back where row after row of outfits were stored, on shelves, or hanging on a wooden rack. And then she fell in love.

They had _every outfit in Albion._ And not just the outfits available for the Hero to purchase. But any old thing one might see ranging from the pomp and frill of Millfields to the subservient attire of your average Bowerstone Industrial worker. Everything.

Except for Auroran fashion, of course.

But there she was, standing in the middle of a room, while Darcy waited patiently out front, a room filled with dresses of all kinds, suits of all kinds, and costumes of every variety. Masquerades were of course a thing in Albion, so auspicious hats and masks were everywhere. Top hats, ballroom slippers, and everything in between. And better yet, unlike in the game, they were real clothes, which meant she could pair anything with just about anything.

The best part was probably the fact that she wouldn't miss using the Sanctuary to change her outfit's color, as nearly every color was already available. But she noticed the pricetags. To little surprise, everything was priced differently, but still expensive, and she had to periodically check with Darcy, who held her purse, to make sure she had enough for a certain purchase.

But there was a downside to overrule any other.

Everything required a corset.

Every shirt. Every dress. Everything. If she didn't wear a corset she'd look terrible, no matter which outfit she wore and in which way. But she didn't have a bra, and there was no getting one. Apparently the breast bands her characters wore were just a game prop to keep tatas from being exposed when undressing in the Sanctuary.

Bras had not been invented yet in Albion. But it had just about every sort of corset a woman could lust after. And her breasts would look absolutely spectacular in some of them. But she refused. She absolutely refused. There was a _reason_ people in her world no longer wore such terrible atrocities as corsets, unless they were in some sort of costume. There was a _reason_ bras were invented.

Because corsets were the devil incarnate.

The only top she could get away with wearing absent a corset was the female mercenary top. So she paired it with some sort of blazer looking thing, more or less, the feminine merc jacket with two full sleeves. At least, she was certain that's what it was. But with no bird symbol on the back. Of course, she had to trade the tiny shorts and striped stockings for 'man pants'. She was not about to wander around Bowerstone castle in that shit. So out went the shorts, and in came semi loose fitting slacks that matched the jacket, and pirate boots.

Yeah...those.

Those boots that came with the adventurer ensemble that looked _suspiciously_ like a pirate costume.

"Argh, me matey," she quipped under her breath as she dressed behind the divider, then went to inspect herself in the mirror. "Well, it's comfortable. And it's the closest I'll get to normal without going home and packing my own clothes."

She then selected something more formal, but knew without a doubt it was only going to be purchased as a backup set, in case the King threatened to shoot her in the face if she didn't change clothes. Because she most certainly meant to wear the 'pirate' gear if she could get away with it. The secondary outfit was somewhere in between a riding outfit, and a magician suit. No joke, it looked like Zatanna jumped right off the page and she almost felt like she should be waving a wand.

A mauve colored velvet tuxedo jacket, white tunic, cravat, beige trousers, and knee length boots to match. Also somewhat comfortable, but required a corset, a very _reluctantly_ bought corset, but yes, a corset.

She groaned at the thought of being forced into one.

Darcy's eyebrows shot up to his forehead when she finished dressing and came out. Wearing the man pants. He shared a look with the tailor before clearing his throat.

"Might I suggest, Madame, that since you are a woman, perhaps you'd like to wear something...designed for women?"

She sighed.

"I'm not going to a ball, Darcy. I'm helping the King straighten out the royal finances. It won't be the end of the world if I wear men's trousers."

No, only the end of the world if they failed protect the kingdom from the Crawler.

"Point taken, Madame, however...you are a guest of the royal household. Not a prostitute-"

"Eh, I don't know. I'd say she looks pretty good," the tailor piped up. Darcy rolled his eyes.

" _And_ woman's fashions wouldn't be _nearly_ as revealing as such an outfit."

She glanced down, knowing he was referring to how much of her waist was exposed. The top barely covered her belly button. She sighed. "Again, Darcy, I highly doubt the King will be so worried about how I dress."

If he thought _this_ was bad, he would faint at the sight of regular clothing back home. Or just have a heart attack the minute he saw a string bikini.

Darcy pursed his lips a little. "I beg to differ," he mumbled. Then he took a deep breath. "Well, we shan't keep His Majesty waiting, hmm?"

"So you're a book keeper?" The tailor asked her, who was probably happy just to get a sale that day. "How much do you charge? I've been needing someone to balance the store's accounts. My last book keeper went on a trip to Brightwall and got eaten by balverines. And they weren't even nice enough to bring my ledgers back in one piece."

Raven snorted a little.

"Well," she clicked her tongue, feeling a haggle coming on. "My schedule is pretty full but...if you give me a bit of a discount, I might be able to fit you in, at a decent rate too."

"Oh how wonderful! Shall we say, ten percent then?"

"Deal."

Upon walking out of the shop in discounted clothing, Darcy took the time to say, ever so gently, "Its _schedule_ , Madame, not 'skejewal'. But...close enough." Adding a knowing look at the end.

She smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, Darcy...And it's Raven, not Madame."

"Ah. Of course. As you wish, Miss Raven."

"Eh, close enough," she said with a laugh and a wink, putting a bright smile on the old man's face.

* * *

Logan had been in the foyer, in the middle of addressing a constable's concerns about picketing in Bowerstone Industrial, when Raven walked in.

He froze mid sentence, and had to struggle to keep his eyes above her collar and not dwell too long on the outfit.

He didn't know whether to be disgusted...or turned on.

She looked like a...well, he didn't actually know _what_ she looked like, but she didn't look like a lady. Halfway between a crossdressed buckaneer and a cutthroat. She looked like any minute now she'd pull out a sword and say, 'Give me all your gold and jewels, and after that I'll tie you up and take your manhood too.'

To which he'd happily say, 'Yes please do. Take anything you like.'

That's probably what disturbed him the most. It wasn't that the outfit was inappropriate for Bowerstone women, commoner _or_ aristocrat, but the fact that the outfit filled out in all the right places and exposed skin in just the right areas to make his groin tighten in interest.

He masked his sudden urge to drool behind a dissaproving scowl. The constable dismissed himself after shooting Raven a curious glance, and Darcy made himself scarce, leaving them alone in the foyer. Logan's eyes raked over her for a split second, and all he could think to say was, " _That_ is what you spent my money on?"

"I am a woman of practicality, Your Majesty," she said with that garish false accent, as guards were nearby. "And a woman of comfort."

They started walking away from the guards and aimlessly down the hall.

"I thought you meant to fit in, not stand out," he pointed out.

"I'm more worried about not being itchy at the moment," she said. "And in my defense," she said quietly, "It was the only thing I could find that didn't require a corset."

His eyes widened.

"Are you a complete heathen?!" He scathed, to which she only huffed.

"If you had to wear a corset all day long you'd hate it too. I'm just saying."

Yes, but he didn't need to hear her confirm that. He really didn't need to hear that the only thing that would be between his hand and those breasts was a flimsy sheet of burgundy fabric. No, he really didn't need to hear it at all. And he found he rather liked when women wore corsets, truthfully. It was like unwrapping a very fleshy birthday present. Getting to the prize inside was half the fun.

_Get ahold of yourself man, and stop thinking about undressing her! You are a King, not a sex depraved adolescent!_

He let out a sigh.

"To the war room then," he urged, ready to get down to business, hoping that speaking of important affairs, such as the state of the kingdom's finances, would take his mind off Raven's bare skin.

To the war room they went, and once the door was shut and locked behind them, he grabbed a paper from the table, handed it to her, and asked, "Now... _why_ did you need property listings?"

She flipped through the paper.

"Well, you're going to think I'm crazy, but..."

* * *

The entire time she spoke, Logan's eyes so totally did not remain focused on hers. He kept flitting over the outfit, as if it were just the worst thing to him. It was rather annoying. She could understand that the man was used to being a bad character, and used to the way women behaved in Albion, and that he didn't like Raven much, but this was getting ridiculous. She tried to ignore the way he stared as she pitched her scheme of flipping property for profit.

"There is money _everywhere_ in Albion," she said. "You just have to know where to look. Now what I-" Dammit. "What your _brother_ did was use his own personal wealth to fill the treasury so that he could keep the promises made. He started out small. Worked odd jobs for money, even found money in his travels. But most importantly, he _invested_ that money. Bought one piece of property with his earnings, rented it out, and then used the profit to buy another. And then another. Eventually he owned every residence and small business available. A good scheme. One that we're going to take advantage of, and beat him to the punch."

"You're seriously suggesting this?" He asked, as if he hardly believed he was hearing it.

"Do _not_ underestimate the value of good real estate," she said. "Now, here's the wrench in the machine. You'll have to entrust _me_ with the responsibility. And the ownership. If the King of Albion suddenly starts buying up all the available market, the people of Albion may see that as just another way His Majety aims to oppress his people. And we don't want that."

"So I'm just supposed to trust that you will fill the treasury then?"

"Well, if it's a matter of trust, you can have someone _you_ trust to collect the money and put it where you need it. Like...say, Darcy, for example. All I need from you is enough money to buy one piece of real estate, and he and I can handle the rest. Before you know it, all your coin will be refunded, and then some. Every bit I make can go towards military funding. I mean...it's not I need it."

She shrugged after that, and just sort of looked at him hopefully.

"I've done the math, and its enough to cover some of the changes we need to make."

"Some?" He repeated.

"Some, yes, but not all. I'm still working on the rest of the plan. I'll need at least the rest of the afternoon to do some figuring. But by tomorrow I should have everything worked out."

He sort of deflated a little when he sighed, stared at the floor and rubbed his chin.

"Just keep in mind, Logan, that before, you didn't have someone like me who knows exactly what your brother's next move will be. Before, you didn't know what the repercussions of your actions would be in the long run. And think of how many lives you will save avoiding a war. How many soldiers you won't be risking. If you take the advice I'm giving, and trust me to make you needed money now, that's all the better things will be in the long run."

He sighed again.

"You can do whatever you need to, on one condition."

"And that would be?"

"Change your clothes."

She growled. "This again? Look, when you can find an outfit that doesn't require a corset, by all means buy it for me and I'll wear it. I'll smile and say I love it too. But until then, leave the fashion and money making schemes to me. Honestly, would you rather I be cranky in suffocating clothes, or happy and comfortable in this?"

He rolled his eyes and walked away. "I'll send in Darcy to assist you, and we'll discuss this further after dinner this evening."

"I'll see you then," she called, flopping down on the nearest chair.

Damn, what was so terrible about what she was wearing anyway?

It wasn't like she walked around in nothing but her underwear.

Why was Logan so damn irritated?

Oh wait, was it the fact that she called him Logan, instead of Your Majesty?

Oh well. His pompous attitude was still preferable to that itchy dress, at any rate.


	7. When Given a Choice

So Albion had it's own newspaper, she learned. That's where all the property listings were. She found herself lounging on the leather couch skimming through it when Darcy came in.

"Miss Raven, I would suggest you remove your feet from the furniture," he said as he sat down nearby, pulling a monocle from his pocket, and pulling out reading material. "I've never known His Majesty to behead anyone for scratching the leather in the war room, however, he has been known to become quite cross."

"I've noticed," she remarked as she swung her feet around, sitting upright and crossing her legs instead. "Is there anything that _doesn't_ irritate him, Darcy?"

"Ah, well a fine glass of brandy and a good book usually don't offend him." She snorted at his nonchalant attitude. "I take it either he was not impressed with your chosen attire, or not impressed with your business proposal." He glanced at her, and she flopped the paper down in her lap.

He knew her so well already. Uncanny.

"He went for the proposal," she said. "But no. He didn't like the outfit...I don't understand why it has to bother him that much. I'm not a princess, Darcy. I shouldn't be expected to act like one, should I?"

"Well, you _are_ a budding entrepreneur, Miss Raven. _And_ an attractive young woman. Perhaps His Highness simply doesn't wish for anyone in Bowerstone to misinterpret the reason for your stay here at the castle."

"Well, alright, but I don't see what me being attractive has to do with it."

Darcy set down his book, removed his monocle and stared incredulously at her. "Miss Raven, _surely_ you are intelligent enough of an individual to see His Majesty's attraction to you. It would be wise to dress and behave appropriately as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself."

She laughed...and then she stopped.

"Wait, you're being serious?" She asked. "You really think he's attracted to me?"

"I may be old, Miss Raven, but I'm not dead, and a man _can_ pick up on another man's interest in a woman."

He replaced his monocle and continued reading.

"Do let me know if you should need anything," he then said.

She huffed.

Attracted to her? Really? That seemed a little farfetched.

She shook her head and continued reading the paper when she noticed an article in it that pertained to her. _Well look at that,_ she thought. _I'm in the paper._ The actual subject pertained to the protest at the castle, and wasn't specifically about her, but she was mentioned. And she wondered where this reporter got their information. Because it was surprisingly accurate.

_'Bowerstone was in an uproar yesterday when two Industrial workers were apprehended after a riot in the castle courtyard, and the Prince himself, as well as a member of the kitchen staff were accused of treason. Miraculously, the workers, as well as the Prince and his cohort were all released and acquitted of their crimes when an anonymous woman spoke up during the proceedings, claiming to know personal information about His Highness, King Logan. Just who is this woman, the public wonders. What incriminating evidence does she having against our King, and will we see more of this peculiar woman in days to come?'_

The article went on discussing the current state of affairs in Bowerstone, and speculations surrounding the missing Prince. People were wondering just what this would mean for the future of Albion, and all Raven could think was how this might deviate plot from canon. She'd have to do more than just help the King gather coin, she already knew that, but...well, she'd have to come up with more ways to divert the Prince from coming to Bowerstone looking for war.

Thankfully, she had a few ideas in mind already.

She spent the remainder of the afternoon doing some calculating and figuring, taking into account that she would not be collecting rent every five minutes like in the game, nor would she be able to simply set down her controller and let rent collect while she microwaved a Hot Pocket. This was real life, ironic to say, but it was. This was a world she now lived in, for the next six months, and just as Darcy sat next to her in the war room, living, breathing, and adjusting his collar, there were real people out there that depended on her. Real people that Logan needed to improve the livelihood of.

Real people that would die if she didn't figure this out.

She schemed that evening as she ate in the kitchen, listening to gossip. The servants were worried about what the King would do now that the Prince was gone. Seemed people believed that Prince Frederick was the only person that could do anything about things in the castle. But while they were certainly curious of Raven, none of them had any idea of how she was trying to change things for them.

Then Elise of all people walked in. She hadn't been kicked out if the castle yet it seemed. Oh yeah, that's right, she worked there. The newspaper had her painted as a member of the kitchen staff. She lived in Bowerstone, but of course she would still be in the castle. And with Raven showing up unannounced, it prevented the King from banishing her, or for whatever reason, it kept Elise from leaving the castle. She made a beeline for Raven, and sat down at the table across from her.

Raven had no idea how to react.

"Hello there," she greeted, rather timidly, as if she wasn't quite sure if Raven would bite her head off if she spoke to her. "I'm Elise. We met the other day. Well sort of. In the throne room. I...I came to thank you for sticking your neck out like you did. You saved those people. And me."

"No need," Raven waved it off.

Yeah no she was not about to let this girl thank her when she prayed to whatever gods were out there that she died so Raven could live. In fact, she felt really shitty about that still. She was just glad no one had to die.

"Word is, you're not a factory worker, but that you're actually here to...um, to help the King with something or other."

"The guards mistook me for a protester," Raven explained. "I'd say I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but I think it's more like I was at the right place at the right time, huh?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," Elise agreed. "So, if I might ask, what are you here to help the King for?"

Raven chewed her lip. Couldn't hurt to tell her a bit of the truth. Might actually help things a little. It seemed all anyone had at the moment was a string of misconceptions, and maybe telling the truth might help things out. After all, it was her destiny to deviate from plot, according to Theresa. It might help keep the both of them alive. She brushed her hair away from her face.

"The King has been struggling as of late to keep the royal finances together. He's had to make a lot of sacrifices in order to build an army to keep the kingdom safe, and I'm here to help him do that, so that he won't have to make those sacrifices anymore. If you haven't noticed, he's had to do alot of bad things. And it's caused a lot of people to misinterpret his actions. What you saw yesterday, what you became victim to was, well, it was a mistake. I'm here to fix that."

"Here to fix that," Elise repeated. Then she glanced around the room at the servants nearby, who were busy with work and hardly paying attention to them. "You make it sound as if everybody's simply misunderstood the King. Building an army? But for what? Does he mean to go to war with the Resistance?"

"No," Raven shook her head. "That's just a bunch of propaganda. The real threat is out there, beyond the sea. And what King wouldn't want to prepare his soldiers for an attack?"

"What's out there?" Elise prodded.

"Anything and everything," she lied. "You never know what could be out there."

Elise wasn't quite believing it.

"You said you knew something about Aurora in the throne room. I thought Aurora was just some empty desert. What's in Aurora?"

"Best you not worry about that," Raven warned. "All you need to know is there's alot more going on here than what you think. Trust me. In time, you'll understand."

"Well, I hope so. Because I really don't understand right now. What does all of this have to do with you?"

"I'm a business woman, Miss Elise. And money is my business. I'm here to help the King make money. I'm here to set things straight."

"Hmm, well while you're at it, can you convince the King to make Reaver treat his factory workers better? Treat the children in the factory better? Reaver Industry's _killing_ the people of Bowerstone. That man has got to be stopped."

"Trust me, Elise, I plan to. I plan to fix alot of things around here. Just wait and see."

Before anything further could be said, Darcy was at the foot of the stairs, coming to collect Raven. She had a date with the King, so to speak, to further discuss her plans. And she had a new idea that sprung to mind. She knew just how to get straight to the heart of the matter. And she crossed her fingers, hoping it worked.

* * *

"We need to deal with Reaver Industries," she told Logan in the war room, with a matter of fact tone of voice. "It won't be enough to simply lower the taxes. You'll have to increase the workers' wages. You'll have to ensure they receive fair treatment."

Logan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

"Reaver employs over fifty percent of the citizens of Albion," she continued. "And he's the main source of the people's oppression. And because you're their King, they turn to _you_ as the one to blame."

"You think I don't know this already?" He asked. "If I pass a law requiring Reaver to increase his workers' earnings then I'll be _losing_ more money than gaining."

"Only because you depend so highly on Reaver's company to crank out weapons and ammunition, among other things. But you _have_ to do something about it. If he hasn't already, than sometime soon, he'll encourage you to allow him to drop his workers' wages by one hundred percent! They'll be forced to work for nothing! And if they strike he'll _kill_ them." His head snapped up at that. "That's slavery, Logan. Slavery that you will allow because you think you have no other choice. And this will be one of the last straws needed to cause a war."

He considered that for a moment, absently reaching for the cigarette case she left on the table. Lighting a match and touching flame to the end of the paper, taking a long drag.

Slavery, she said. And he was inclined to believe her. Up until now, he'd taken any and every suggestion Reaver slung at him in court. Up until now he didn't think he had another option. But then again, he didn't have a young woman standing before him, willing to hand over any and all profit made from her schemes to fund his military projects. He didn't have a young woman who knew so much about what was headed their way. He only ever had the choice he made, several years ago, to either keep his promise to Aurora, or protect his country.

He didn't have someone who...well, who knew he had nightmares, and knew what it was that kept him awake.

And he didn't have a clue that his brother would become a Hero.

"Reaver is a very powerful man," he told her. "If I don't allow him to run his business how he sees fit, he'll take it elsewhere, and all the money with it. And if he increases their wages, no doubt many will lose their jobs, and those remaining will have double the work load. Not only that, but imagine the economical collapse without Reaver Industries."

Raven flipped her hair.

"Only because the man has no competition," she pointed out. "His business is powerful because it's the only one. You're a man of progress, Logan. But that means forging ahead. I think it's time you broke the bad news to the man of industry, and said hello to a _woman_ of industry."

He leaned his head to the side.

"Just what are you suggesting?" He asked.

"I'm suggesting you give me a few days to work out the kinks, and draw up some plans, then consider my proposal. That's all. If you don't like the idea, you can always say no, but trust me, you'll like it."

He sighed. "A few days then?"

"Yes. Just a few days. That's all I'll need. Oh, and of course I'll need Darcy's help."

"Alright then," he nodded, trying to ignore the odd feeling creeping up his spine when she squealed in delight once more. He didn't know what it was, but seeing her happy like that, it...made him feel something. Something peculiar.

They exited the war room together, and started walking down the hall. She stopped abruptly, and stared at something, or someone, across the hall. His eyes went from hers to the person she was staring at, and he realized it was the girl from the throne room. The blonde that encouraged his brother to get involved with yesterday's mess.

Her name was Elise. He was fairly certain she worked in the kitchens when she wasn't traipsing about on Frederick's arm. He bristled a little when Raven touched his elbow, then murmured, "I have an idea."

"What sort of idea?" He found himself whispering, absently wondering _why_ they were whispering. He heard her sigh.

"Look, that girl over there thought she was doing the right thing by encouraging Frederick to stand up to you yesterday. I know you were trying to protect Albion's interests, and I know why, but she doesn't understand that. All she knows is that King Logan was going to shoot and kill people. She really doesn't mean you or anyone any harm. I promise. And with Frederick gone, she's upset, and...you should apologize to her."

"Apologize?" He repeated.

"Yes. It won't be enough for you to simply undo the things you've done when we secure the funds to protect Albion. People will actually have to see that you have their best interests at heart."

"You make a compelling argument, but just what makes you think apologizing would make any bit of difference? I cannot hand my brother over to her, nor can I change the past-"

"It's not about changing the past, its about changing the future, remember? Trust me. It will help. Before, you couldn't afford to feel guilty about the decisions you made, because you had no other choice. But you have one now. That's what I'm here for. Now go apologize." She nudged his arm. "Go on...Oh, and invite her to stay at the castle. As a show of good will. Insist on it."

He stood there for a second longer and stared at Raven. She looked as if she dared him to argue with her.

Gods, she really _did_ act like his mother. And he really _didn't_ think that was a good thing. But she got the same look in her eyes like all the women in his family did. Both his mother and his aunt did it to him. They looked at him like he'd been caught stealing candy and it made him feel two inches tall. Even if Raven only came up to his shoulder in height. He simply couldn't understand how they could make a King feel like a scolded child.

He curled his lip a little, then strode across the hall where the little blonde with ridiculously long hair stood wringing her hands. She looked at him with big eyes as wide as saucers, as if he would cut her down. He remained as calm and complacent as he could, and simply said, "I apologize for my behavior yesterday."

She eyed him quizzically.

"I think I may have misunderstood your actions," he then said. "And it was wrong of me to treat you in such a way. You care very much for my brother and...well, I...I can't lie, the way you were willing to sacrifice yourself for the benefit of strangers does impress me. I had no idea that you were such a selfless person. Albion would be a much better place if there were more people like you...I...myself, I shall try to strive to be more like you...I hope that you can forgive me."

"I...of course, Your Majesty," she said. Whether she actually meant that however, he had no idea. He glanced back at Raven, who was standing nearby, and she gave him am encouraging look. He turned to see that Elise noticed her as well.

"I'd like to offer for you to stay here at the castle, Miss Elise," he then said. "It would be my pleasure to care for you until my brother returns. If you would allow."

"Well, um...that really isn't necessary, Your Majesty."

"I insist."

Elise mulled it over for a second, before finally saying, "I accept. Thank you, Your Majesty."

With a curt nod, he walked away. Crossing the hall to join Raven on the landing, and for whatever reason, she slipped her arm into his and led him away, all the while he felt dazed, rather surreal. As if it were a dream. They started walking toward the dining hall. "There, see? That wasn't so bad, was it?" She cooed under her breath with a smirk.

No, it wasn't the end of the world, though he wondered _why_ he was allowing a practical stranger to touch him at the moment. An attractive stranger, but still.

"Alright, one more thing, and then I'll release you from captivity," she cajoled, as she led him through the dining hall. "You need to speak to the kitchen staff." He halted in step. "Oh no you don't," she said. "You need to inform your staff that you will be addressing their concerns regarding the treatment and their wages."

"But I can't do anything about-"

"Yes, you _can_ Logan. And you will."

Once more he felt like a small child just then, being coaxed into jumping into a lake, or a bird being pushed from the nest. He took a deep breath, resisted groaning at her patronizing behavior, and the way she bewitched him into doing just as she asked. Then he followed her downstairs.

* * *

Raven watched from the stairs as Logan stood before a group of servants that had very real faces, very real emotions, and looked very surprised that the King should actually stand there and say:

"I know that I have been neglecting to address many of your concerns. And that many of you have been victim of my disposition as of late..."

Oh and he was convincing too. Either he was a good actor, or these were things he really did want to say to his subjects.

"...And I'm here now to apologize." There were some shocked faces at that. "I know that not only Bowerstone has suffered...but even my own home has suffered. I should like to do all I can to undo some of this hardship. All I ask is for your patience. I have many responsibilities, and I make no excuses. But the many changes that must be made need time."

"Of course, Your Majesty," said the steward, the only one not too shocked to speak. "We understand."

"Your Highness, why did you execute that man the other day?" One of the maids grew bold enough to ask. Raven couldn't see Logan's face, but she imagined he faltered a little. He sighed.

"He was executed for a crime punishable by death," he answered. Then another servant grew bold.

"Rumor has it he was standing up for a child in the factory," he brought up. Raven stepped to the bottom of the stairwell, ready to intervene if the conversation got out of hand. Logan nodded a little, as if to say, 'I know, I know.'

"There are many speculations surrounding his death," the King informed. "However that it happened, it has. But the larger concern has been the subject of children being allowed to work. A subject that will be addressed."

And, once again, a few shocked expressions ensued, but already Raven could see that gears were turning and minds were changing. But before the conversation went too far and the servants caused Logan to put his foot in his mouth, she swooped in, ready to save the day.

"Your Majesty, if I might speak with you a moment," she said.

"Excuse me," he said to everyone, as politely as possible, and turned to head back upstairs at Raven's urging.

"You did very good," she praised.

"I did?" He asked, as if surprised to hear that. "My servants looked as if I would kill them."

She chuckled. "Only because they were shocked. Don't worry, you did fine. It will just take them some time to adjust. And now, the only thing you'll have to do is continue to try to be reasonable. Be polite. So that they see you actually meant it. The way you address people will make all the difference. And once we start changing your policies and people see you made good on your promises, trust me, the doors will open for you. In a manner of speaking. But, you know, literally too, considering the servants open doors for you."

They paused in the hallway for a second or two and their eyes met. He looked... _brighter_ just then. As if apologizing for his actions and vowing to do right was actually _healthy_ for him. He didn't seem quite so pale and...gloomy. She wondered about that. No, he wasn't a Hero, but she wondered of the effects of his mother's blood. Heroes changed physically depending on the choices they made. She wondered if something similar was happening to Logan. Maybe it was more subtle for him, since he didn't have magical abilities.

Either way it was an interesting thought to consider. No one ever tried before to steer Logan back to the light and away from tyranny. So maybe no one ever saw how much of a difference it would make, both physically and emotionally. Because no one ever gave him a chance. Not even Theresa.

But even Theresa saw the potential in helping Logan once Raven appeared in Albion. Maybe Theresa was right when she said Raven was the only one that could do it.

"Thank you," she heard him say, pulling her out if her thoughts.

"For what?"

"For giving me a choice," he said. "I'll try not to take it for granted in the days to come. And...I'll try not to threaten to kill you. _Much_."

She laughed a little, hearing the sarcasm in his tone.

"I'll try not to get on your nerves," she said. " _Much_ ," she then added. "Goodnight, Your Majesty."

"Goodnight, Raven."

He smiled a little, and her heart pounded. He was _wickedly_ handsome when he smiled.


	8. Royal Business

Three days later and Logan had yet to be presented with Raven's proposal. She'd taken to hiding in her guest room in order to keep him from snooping, taking a peek at anything she was doing. Of course it was a simple matter of barging in and demanding that he see her plans, but he had his own troubles to keep him occupied.

There was a lengthy list of requests he poured over in the war room with a strong drink in hand. Hundreds of people requested an audience with their King, and their pleas were anything from appealing the current taxes, to asking to paint a portrait of him. Some great, some small, but all were issues he'd put off addressing for as long as possible. Including abolishing child labor and donating to the homeless shelter in Bowerstone Industrial.

But he had no idea which policies should be applied and which shouldn't. Only Raven knew which things would cause an uproar and which wouldn't. Oh and there was a poorly written request from some anonymous gentleman in Brightwall that pertained to granting the Dwellers their land. Raven had mentioned restoring the valley and allowing the Dwellers freedom to hunt in those forests, but doing so would mean relinquishing the lumber harvested from that forest. A valuable commodity. And the men employed to timber the peak would be jobless if they didn't find an alternative.

He hoped to hell his little black bird had an answer for that conundrum.

She came into the war room unannounced, let in by Darcy, and he swore those two were becoming co-conspiritors in all this. He almost regretted tasking the butler with keeping an eye on her. But as he'd hoped, her manners had improved since being in Darcy's company. He couldn't be too upset with him when he followed orders to the letter in that department.

In she came, surprisingly not wearing that ghastly mercenary getup that gave him a heart attack whenever he saw it. No, instead she was dressed as if she meant to go horseback riding in Millfields, or, more accurately, intended to do business in Bowerstone. A mauve colored jacket, white blouse, buttoned up all the way to her chin, form fitting pants, and boots. A much better form of attire for a 'woman of industry', as she coined herself.

She looked stunning. But also aggravated.

Which meant she was wearing a corset.

Didn't really matter what she wore. She wore it well. And he still perked in interest.

"Your Majesty," she greeted.

He set down his itinerary and stood up.

"Miss Raven," he greeted, and then noticed that Darcy was lugging an armful of rolled up parchment. "I'm assuming you're ready to discuss your latest proposal?"

"That I am. And I'm even dressed for the occasion," she said. She glanced at Darcy, who set down the papers nearby and excused himself from the room, closing the door aptly behind him. Raven then turned back to the King. "Well, here it is." She gestured to the parchment, and so Logan approached to unravel the paper and inspect.

They were blueprints and schematics.

"What are these?" He found himself asking, hardly believing what he was seeing. Some of the items were absolutely ingenius.

"Some of these are inventions from my...um, my country," she stumbled over saying. "And some of them are my own design. All I need is enough money to purchase a building to convert to a factory. I can use the profit from renting out a few buildings in Industrial. That's my start up capital. I just need enough to buy the building and hire enough workers to renovate. And if they want they can turn around and work in the factory. For fair wages.

They'll have job security. They'll be able to feed their families and pay their taxes. We might not even have to reduce the taxes. We could even give them tax cuts for various things like family capacity, sales made, advertising. The possibilities are endless. And if Reaver wants to keep his employees he'll have no choice but to increase their pay. Like I said. Competition. The only thing I don't have is a name. But the profits earned from the business will go directly into making some real changes in Albion."

"And in the midst of this you also plan to fund the treasury I'm assuming?" He asked. She nodded.

"Children won't have to work to make up the difference because their families will be able to afford them. They can go to school. In fact, my company can sponsor a school built right here in Bowerstone. And I'll even fund reopening Brightwall Academy...I think, um...I think your mom would certainly approve of that, wouldn't she?"

He set down the parchment in hand and sighed. Gods, it was if she knew _exactly_ what to say to appeal to him. His mother would _certainly_ approve. If only he could count the number of times he lie awake at night knowing how disappointed she would be to see what he'd done to her kingdom. But then again he'd always rationalized that she would understand if she knew what was at stake. If she knew what he had seen out in the desert. And what Theresa told him.

He glanced up at Raven, who was practically jumping out if her skin for his approval. Starting to bounce a little on her heels, picking at her nails in anticipation. "What do you think?" She asked. "I mean I know there's a lot of work to be done and we won't start profiting right away but with a little elbow grease it can work...right?"

He rubbed his chin in thought.

"You said some of these were your own design."

"Mhmm."

"So you went from financial advisor and captitalist to being an _inventor_?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, actually I um...I was going to go to school to become an engineer. Back home. I um...I just finished...normal school? I think you call it? General studies. Anyway I was always tinkering with things. Good at fixing things and..."

"Fixing things," he muttered. "So I've noticed."

She shrugged. "Yeah I...uh...I like fixing things. Some people want to throw away a clock when it gets broken, but...I always tried to give that clock a second chance before tossing it out. Not everything that's broken is irrepairable. Some things just take a little patience."

With the look she gave him just then, why did he feel like _he_ was the clock in that metaphor?

"But yes. Fixing things and making things. Making something out if nothing is the code I live by. My adoptive parents thought engineering would be a good pursuit. So I was going to go back to school but...they turned down my application and-"

"Why?"

"Eh. A stupid reason. I guess I just wasn't good enough for their standards. Pretty high standards."

She was rejected? Hard to understand why, considering how bright, intelligent and forward thinking she seemed to be. Progressive, and rather _genius_ if her schematics were any evidence. Take away the lack of any proper upbringing and he wouldn't understand why she would be rejected. And she was educated. That was saying something, considering how difficult it was to get a proper education. He was to blame for that, of course.

He wasn't the only broken clock in the conversation, was he? She was practically begging him to give her a chance with her eyes. Had been from the start. Take a chance on her, she had said. Well, that he most certainly did, and for the last three days came to the realization that he needed to put _every_ chance on her. Everything depended on her, and if her schemes worked, they might be able to pull it off. Oh but that wasn't all of it. She was changing much more than the balance of the treasury, he noticed. Already things changed about the castle. Attitudes changed towards him, even. People smiled hopefully at him and it was...refreshing. She was a miracle worker.

Of _course_ he would approve of her idea.

But there was a downside to this proposal. One he'd already considered, but one she obviously hadn't.

"If you work directly in competition with Reaver Industries, you'll make an enemy of Reaver," he pointed out, with a grave tone of voice. "Reaver is a dangerous man."

"Pfft, I can handle Reaver," she waved off.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously, Raven," he warned. "There are things that man is capable of that even I can't protect you from."

She rolled her eyes.

"I _know_ what Reaver is capable of," she deflected. "Reaver only cares about one thing and one thing only."

"And that would be?" He inquired, but she hesitated to answer.

"Staying young and powerful," she finally answered. But it was the way she said it that made him curious. As if it were a double entendre for something else. If she knew quite a bit about a lot of other things...just how much did she know about Reaver?

"There's something you're not telling me," he said. "We made a deal that I wouldn't expect you to divulge anything personal about yourself, but that doesn't pretain to Reaver. Tell me, what do you know about him?"

"I know enough," she said.

"Dammit, Raven, tell me!" He barked. "Now! Or everything we discussed gets tossed into the garbage! Rejected! Entirely! Now spill it!"

She looked hurt by that, and glanced at her schematics.

"Look I know he's dangerous, alright? Just because he helped your mother doesn't mean he's a good man, but that doesn't mean he's-"

"Helped my mother?" He stepped closer and Raven backed away as if he would harm her. "What do you mean helped her? She died before he ever came to Bowerstone. You'd better tell me everything you know about her right now."

She gulped nervously.

"Look I...I didn't mean to say that and I shouldn't tell you. There are things that I probably shouldn't say because it might make things worse. Like I said I'm not a seer. I don't have visions at random times of day that tell me what's going to happen. I don't know what that might change!"

He fumed, absolutely frustrated at that. But he didn't know how to convince her to tell him. If threatening to throw her in jail didn't work, much less threatening to kill her, he didn't know what would. Torture, maybe? Could he bring himself to do something like that to her? He didn't know if he could. And it was a terrible thing to consider.

And he _liked_ her.

"You're staying here at the castle," he ordered. To which she looked shocked. "You can hire someone to oversee your investments. But I will not allow you to go to Bowerstone Industrial and become a walking target for Reaver's men. He has ways of covering his tracks. It's too easy for him to make it look like an accident."

"If I don't go down there personally and oversee the construction, and it's not done to my exact specifications it could upend the whole thing!" She argued. "The last thing you need is to lose money because of someone else's mistake."

"And if something happens to you-"

"Then you lose the only person who can help you, I get it!" She huffed. "Without me you can't change anything. I don't plan on screwing that up."

He clenched his jaw. She made it sound as if that were the only reason she were valuable. Her knowledge. Was this really what he made her think of herself? Was this what people really came to think of him? Was this why his subjects acted so surprised that he should apologize to them? Or her, for that matter? For even though she knew he was trying to do the right thing, she still treated him as a _monster_ , one she had to appease, instead of a human being. Why? None of it made any sense.

She was just as bad as his brother with assumptions like this, and new theories about her suddenly popped in his head.

Reluctantly he walked over to a cabinet and pulled a pistol from inside. She looked leery when she saw it, until he handed it to her in its holster.

"Have you ever used one?" He asked. She nodded.

"Never _killed_ anyone before but I've shot one, yes."

"Hopefully you won't have to use it. But if you plan to leave the castle, keep it on hand. It's loaded. And it isn't a toy."

She scowled a little at the last part.

"I mean it Raven. It is not a toy. And you _will_ use it if you have to. And if anything happens, I don't really give a damn if the Crawler comes or not, you are to abandon this venture and return to the castle _immediately_. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now go start your own business will you? Off to Bowerstone with you. Make that school regret they ever rejected you."

She nodded a little as she looped the belt around her waist beneath her coat. He could've sworn he got her to smile a little as well.

"Thank you," she mumbled. Then she growled at the way she had trouble buckling the holster. Without hesitation he reached to adjust it and buckle it properly.

"See, now that wasn't so hard was it?" He asked, mimicking her tone of voice, though he didn't attempt to mimick her accent. It was truly one of a kind and he'd rather not despoil it. He tilted her chin so that she met his gaze. "Take care of yourself, because if _anyone's_ going to kill you it will be _me_ , and no one else. Don't forget that."

She huffed. "I'll keep that in mind," she derided, before leaving the war room, and leaving Logan standing there wishing he'd had the nerve to kiss her.

* * *

She took a carriage to the Industrial quarter, upon Darcy's insistence, as it was a much longer walk to that side of town than the market. The docks were a lot bigger than she thought they would be, but that was a good thing. It meant there was plenty of room for her to weasel her way in.

The first thing she did was inspect some properties in the residential part of town, and got information from the tenants about the owners. One of the houses was owned by a man who lived right next door, and it was convenient. He was happy to sell the house, but had been worried about evicting his tenants, but when she told him she wouldn't be evicting the tenants or raising their rent, he was happy to sit down and draw up an arrangement.

Which meant discussing a reasonable price for the house. In less than an hour he had gold in hand, signed over the deed, Raven had the document notarized by an attorney and the only thing she needed was the King's seal. Which was the least of her worries. She wiped her brow, thinking of how much work was actually put into buying a home in Albion, and how expensive it really was, considering she had to pay for the home, pay the attorney a fee, oh and pay property taxes. Yes, she was correct to assume that she would pay taxes. Everything had a tax dollar amount attached.

Rent was due the following day, however, and would be awarded to her as property manager rather than the previous owner, who skipped off to the tavern first thing with all that gold in hand. Oh she was certain she'd make a killing if she invested in taverns in Albion. _They_ certainly did. People drank away their troubles like it was New Years Eve.

Two more pieces of real estate were purchased that day, and on the other side of the docks she inspected a potential factory, an abandoned warehouse, going very cheap, but only because it was so rundown it wasn't funny. It looked like it was meant for an apocalyptic wasteland, not the Fable universe. Which was what she opted to call this alternate plane of existence. The Fable world. She was stuck in Fable land. It felt appropriate.

The only thing left to do now was work on getting the materials for the renovation, the manual labor, and sit back and collect rent until she had enough money to buy more property, or start building her factory. She felt like she should buy a top hat so she could have a real Monopoly moment, but...there was already one business mogle in town with a top hat, and she wasn't about to cramp Reaver's style. So absent a top sat she stepped into the carriage, when business in Bowerstone was concluded.

She never had to use her pistol, not once, though she did notice a suspicious man following her and Darcy all day. Watching their every move.

Did she need to worry about that?

She put it from her mind when the carriage started moving and headed back to Bowerstone Castle. Instead she schemed her way back, mentally calculating every risk, every expense, and tallied up how much money she would need to kick things in gear. She started considering hiring someone to handle her business for her like Logan suggested just so she didn't have to go door to door to conduct business, but...well, it was fun. It meant she got to leave the castle and explore Albion.

But dragging Darcy along with her was going to be a bit of an issue when she tried to make friends with some of Bowerstone's... _less_ favorable company. Eventually, she would need to approach Page, and somehow win her over, and keep her from joining Frederick's cause. Oh and eventually find some way to get to Swift. If Swift joined the Resistance, and then tried to persuade Logan's men to betray him, he'd be apprehended and executed for treason. She couldn't let that happen.

But she knew their motivations. She knew that Ben and Swift didn't like that Logan sent them to Mourningwood, and she knew Page hated that Logan allowed Reaver to run the type of business he ran. Oh and child labor. That played a big role in her alliance with the Hero. His promise to abolish child labor. Raven had no choice but to intervene before he allied with these people. Turning his allies against rebellion was her ticket to turning the Hero away from that path.

By the time she reached the castle she found she had more things to stress about than stress relieved. It seemed the weight only got heavier, and didn't get any lighter. She only had six months. Well, minus three days. So she had less than six months now.

But when she stepped inside her room that evening, she found a note on her pillow, from the King. It read:

_'There are some things a man simply can't do, that a woman can. And there's only one woman in Albion who might possibly save my life. I didn't mean to make you feel as if your only value is your knowledge. But I only wanted to return the favor, and keep you safe.'_

Well, that was very sweet of him.

She didn't attempt to go to bed that night, and instead left her room and sought out the King. She highly doubted he was asleep yet, and he could probably use a drink, same as her. She could certainly use the company. Mostly because he was the only person in Albion she didn't have to use a fake accent with. And once she got past that prickly exterior, she noticed that he _was_ indeed the man she hoped he would be underneath. And that meant alot.


	9. The Music Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Logan and Frederick learn some unsettling truths...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _...and the times they are a changin'..._

"You can't go in there, Miss," said the guard standing outside the royal chamber. "That's His Highness's chamber. Off limits."

"I know its the King's room. I've come to talk to him...Well, holy fuck man, knock on the door for me then!" She spat. "Act like I'm just going barge in. Pfft."

The guard looked as if he'd swallowed his tongue at the way she spoke. But he knocked on the door.

"What is it?" Logan called.

"Miss Raven's come to see you sir!" The guard called. "Shall I tell her to-"

"Come in!" He called, to which the guard opened the door for her and let her in.

Holy shit. She was going into his bedroom. She'd only ever been in that room playing the game, and only after the Hero became King/Queen of the country. Would it be any different?

She stepped inside and jumped a little when the door slammed shut behind her and stared. It was a lot more magnificent than in the game. Felt like it was bigger too. And the bed was _huge_.

"Was there something you needed?" Logan asked when she entered the main chamber of his quarters, stood and gaped at everything.

"I...well, I couldn't sleep and figured you couldn't either. Was going to ask if you wanted to have a drink, but..." She twirled around and soaked in the sheer awesomeness of the room. All the décor, the furniture, the expensive looking fabric. "I'm very jealous right now. This looks better than...Well, let's just say it's quite a room."

Her eyes made their way to Logan, who was still dressed, but without armor. Just the purple tunic, pants, and his boots. His gloves were gone and his sleeves were rolled up. Arms folded, and he was staring at her.

"A drink then?" He asked, and then lazily walked over to his liquor cabinet. He had his own bar? Right there in his room? Damn.

"What shall we toast to?" He asked as he poured her a drink. "Your new business, perhaps?"

"Well, you can't drink to something that doesn't have a name," she shrugged. "Still haven't thought if that. I've been too busy worrying about everything else."

"We have that in common," he noted. "Then perhaps you can think of a name while you read this." He handed her a glass, and then a sheet of paper. In very eloquent handwriting was a list of requests from his subjects. Her jaw dropped. "Perhaps you can tell me which things will award the people's trust, and which will get me killed."

"That's _a lot_ of requests," she couldn't help but say. There were at least a hundred of them, and some of them were just ridiculous. "Balverines _pit fighting_? What sort of drugs was he taking when he came up with this shit? This guy needs therapy."

He didn't even correct her cursing.

"However much time you need to look through this, take it. But tomorrow morning court will be held in the thrown room to discuss child labor," he told her. "I must tell you, I'm unsure about this. There are many children in Bowerstone that might suffer for it. I thought it was a wise decision to make in the first place _for that reason_. Why allow an orphan to resort to thievery when he can _earn_ money instead to help feed his family?"

"That's why we need to build a school," she reminded. "So children can educate themselves for a better life, and a better future. And increase wages. But either way you have to ban children from working. It's on the list of things you have to change."

"Then it's decided. Tomorrow, in court, you will present that argument."

"Me? Court? Tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. You are the one making these changes. You will present them in court. I need someone who knows the benefits and downsides of the argument."

Well, other than stopping a war, she didn't have much of an argument. She just knew it needed to be done. "Alright then," she reluctantly agreed. He nodded.

"I have...a theory about you, if you'd like to hear it," he then said, changing the subject. Then he downed his drink and poured another. She had a feeling she needed to be semi drunk for this, so she tipped back her own glass.

"I'm all ears."

He went to sit on the edge of his bed, and thumbed the rim of his glass for a second or two, gathering words.

"You know interesting things about my family," he began. Then he took a breath. "And interesting things about my brother. You knew that he's a Hero. You knew how he escaped the castle. You claim to know every move he's going to make. Every decision he would be forced to make, were he in my place. But you're not a seer. You've...seen possible outcomes. You've knowledge of the consequences of our actions and yet...you don't know how things will change. And you say you're not a time traveler...but you've done it all before?"

He tipped back his glass, and once more drained it in one gulp.

"I wonder if you're lying to me," he then said. That made her nervous to hear, until he continued. "I wonder if such a thing is possible, but you don't want to admit to it, perhaps thinking I won't believe you? But you aided my brother. Put him on the throne. Saw what would become of the world and somehow acquired the power to go back and do it all again."

"Interesting theory," she remarked.

"Yes it is, isn't it?...Only the _one_ thing I _cannot_ understand is why you would travel back in time, provided it were possible of a thing to do, of course, but you did so to help me. Why not simply go back and correct my brother's mistakes? If you traveled with my brother, saw for yourself that he was capable of defending Albion from the coming darkness... _why_? Why use your power to help me? What should it matter if a few people had to die along the way for the greater good? If a war must come to Albion to protect it, why not let it come?"

She started to speak, but found she was at a loss of what to say. Should she allow him to believe this theory of his? Or should she tell him the truth? The truth was just as insane. And what if she really did cause a paradoxical event and upended the universe by revealing that she became trapped in a fictional world come to life?

"What made you believe I was anything but a tyrant, when it seems to me that...that's exactly what I've been? Why _shouldn't_ I simply hand the kingdom over to Frederick right now? What does this world have to gain with me in it?"

She sighed. "Alright, I think you've had one too many drinks, Your Majesty."

"It's a legitimate question, Miss Raven. If all I've done is oppress my people, and...for _what_ , when I _never_ would have succeeded in protecting the realm...Why are you here?"

"Because I saw good in you," she told him. "You did the right thing. Even if it _was_ at the last minute, you still did it. And that does matter, you know. The rest of the world may have seen a cruel, power crazed tyrant in the music box, but that's not what I saw when I learned the truth."

"Music box?" He repeated. She nodded.

"Yeah. Music box. Um..." She walked over to sit next to him on the edge of the bed to explain. Fuck it. Maybe it might make him understand. "So, during his travels, your brother found a music box beneath Brightwall Academy. _Not_ coincidentally, it was the very same music box your mother bought from a peddler when she was a child."

"I heard that one," he remarked. "Aunt Rose spoke of it, after our mother died. A magic music box that would grant the user a single wish."

"Yes, that one." Holy shit, she was in a universe where the Hero of Bowerstone picked Rose to live?! Damn. Okay. "I never thought to ask. Is Rose still alive?"

"No, she died a few years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry...anyway, when your brother found that music box, and opened it, it gave him a vision."

"A vision? Of what?"

"Of you. And Theresa told him it was to show him the truth. But the funny thing about the truth is when you only receive part of it, the truth can be interpreted many ways."

"And what did this music box show him, exactly?"

Raven took a deep breath.

This was probably going to come back to bite her, wasn't it?

* * *

Frederick wiped the bead of sweat from his brow.

When they said go into the Reliquary, he had no idea he would be venturing down into a carvern as big as Bowerstone city. Or possibly bigger. The damn place was enormous. And he had no idea there were so many hollow men inside. But blessed were the fallen Heroes of Albion, for one of them, his mother of course, left weapons in the Sanctuary he could use. Short and long range weapons, and he didn't have to solely depend on magic as a weapon.

The sword cut right through the hollow men, and the rifle could pick them off at a distance.

Before he knew it, he'd came to the bottom of the grotto and found the artifact he was looking for.

A music box. And it played a familiar tune. A lulliby, maybe? His mother died when he was very young, and Logan remembered her much better than he did. But he remembered just enough to know she hummed that tune. Was fairly certain of it anyway. The music box seemed to glow when he approached it, and he was most certain it was magic of some kind.

Funny thing. When he touched it, just like with the Guild Seal, he disappeared.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing in that same foggy place. In the distance, he could see Bowerstone. He could see home. See the castle and its spires. But he was a bit closer than last time, which maybe was a good sign?

Before he had much time to think about it, once more Theresa appeared.

"Well done, Frederick," she told him. "You are now ready to learn the truth. Open the music box."

* * *

Raven stood up and walked over to the liquor cabinet, uncapped the decanter and poured another drink.

"You were standing in the war room," she told Logan. "Leaning over the map. Looking at the world." She absently leaned over the table in much the same manner. "And...I remember what you said...word for word." Because she was obsessed over it. Agonized over it for months. Reading so much into it once she first learned the truth. But this was no longer a game. She took a deep breath, feeling the hair raise on the back of her neck.

He was only just behind her. Listening intently.

"You said...'This is my Albion...Its cities will bow to my law, or they will burn...Its mountains will bend to my will, or they will fall'." She took another breath. "'This is my Albion...Its people will do as I say, or they will die...Its future will be as I decree, or it will end...I've seen what must be done, and nothing will stand in my way. We will be greater, and we will be stronger, no matter what sacrifices we must make. This is my Albion, and I will see it destroyed before I surrender it'."

Empty silence followed her words.

* * *

Frederick took a deep breath and opened the music box. A bright light flashed before his eyes, and then everything came into focus.

He felt like he was there, in the room, standing right there as he spoke.

 _Reaver_.

"There is power in money," he spoke, to seemingly no one at all, but someone had to be listening, somewhere unseen. "Power in wealth...Money makes the world go round." He smiled devilishly, and twirled his cane. "The more money I have, the more power. And in the end, that's all that matters, is it not? No one, not even the King, can deny me...I've tasted true power. What's a life here or there in the process?...Money, my friend. Money rules the world. And when all is said and done, and every life in Albion rots away to nothing...I will rule the world."

When Frederick snapped to, and the vision faded away, he was appalled.

"If any part of you still doubted the necessity of removing Reaver from the picture, let this be the proof you need," Theresa told him. "As long as Reaver controls the industry in Albion, he controls your brother, and any other. Only you can stop him."

"I most certainly plan to," Frederick told her.

* * *

Logan stood up after hearing Raven's chilling words. Exact words. Words that she'd memorized. Words that she took to heart.

He stepped softly over to the cabinet, startling her when he approached, and poured himself another drink.

She let out a sigh.

"When Frederick opens that box," she said, "And hears those words, if there's any doubt in his mind of the need for a revolution, it will be erased. There's nothing I can do to change that. Theresa is showing him exactly what he needs to see to gather the courage to stand up to you. Gather allies to stand up to you."

"And you saw that?" He asked her. She nodded. "But yet you changed your mind. Saw something in me worth redeeming."

"Yes. Because you told him the truth. The day you went to trial to...answer for all you'd done to Albion, you confessed you'd been planning for the attack. You've been planning it for years. You told him precisely why you abandoned Kalin and her people-"

"Kalin?" He questioned. "How do you know Kalin?...Or do I want to know?"

"Probably not. But let's just say I had a very good reason to believe you, Logan. So did Frederick."

"I see," he nodded. And once more he tipped his glass, winced at the stout brandy hitting his throat and sighed. "There's something you should know about me Raven...That vision in the music box. What I said...it was the truth. I meant every word."

"I know."

"And you still think I'm worth saving?"

"We'll find out in the morning, won't we?" She countered.

"I suppose we will," he concluded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was a short chapter, but I didn't want to ruin it by dragging it out unnecessarily. :/


	10. Birds of a Feather

"Might I suggest, Miss Raven, that you refrain from chewing your nails until _after_ court," came Darcy's voice to jolt her out if her nagging thoughts. "Manicures are terribly expensive in Albion, and half bitten fingernails are _never_ attractive."

She groaned. "I know," she said, hiding her hands behind her back to resist. "I'm just nervous."

"There is no need to be nervous," he consoled. "Only apprehensive."

Upon those words, all too quickly the guards opened the doors to the throne room, and citizens filed in. She watched _apprehensively_ as they crowded into the room before remembering she was meant go in as well. She was followed by Darcy, who headed straight up the steps to stand beside the throne. It seemed that since Walter was absent, Darcy took his place as far as addressing and advising the proceedings. But there was someone else who entered after, and it wasn't the King.

She cast a quick sideways glance to see none other than Reaver. Staring at her. It was fairly intimidating. She sort of lied when she told Logan she could handle Reaver. Granted, she knew every dirty secret a gamer could know about the man but still...she didn't know _everything_. And she wasn't staring at him through the screen anymore. She looked away when he winked, definitely sending her some signals, but the feeling wasn't mutual. As attractive as he was, he was also slightly creepy. And not the good kind of creepy. But the sort of creepy that made her feel like she needed a whistle.

And this man was her enemy, she reminded herself. Not mortal enemy, per say, but her competition, as soon as she got her company up and running. She distracted herself by reciting over and over in her head what she planned to say, and ignored his wandering eye at all cost.

Royal court was different than a courtroom back home. There was no presenting evidence, not really, and there was no jury. Only his words versus hers, and the King to decide. While Darcy would be advising Logan on matters, ultimately Logan made the calls. This was not a democracy. This was monarchy.

This was Albion.

"All hail the King of Albion," Darcy acclaimed, as Logan entered, and Raven's heart leapt. She didn't know why but it did. Maybe it was the way he filled out that armor. Maybe it was the crown. Maybe it was the way he walked. Or maybe it was the fact that underneath that, he was both the good man that had Albion best interests at heart, _and_ the dastardly devil that admitted he was no good.

It was a 'bad boy' thing, it really was.

Logan sat down and reclined back in his throne, shooting Raven the briefest of glances before his eyes rested on Reaver. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. Unfortunately, Logan was way too good at masking his emotions. So instead of pondering that, she concentrated on the subject being addressed.

"Today the people of Albion wish to appeal the legalization of the child workforce," Darcy reiterated for the audience. "If both parties will state their names for the court."

He gestured to Reaver first, who introduced as, "Ahem. Reaver. Of _the_ Reaver Industries." He tipped his top hat and winked at Raven, smiling suggestively. Then Darcy looked to Raven.

"Raven Winters, Your Majesty," she said to Logan with a curtsy. "Owner and majority stock holder of Winter Enterprises."

Yeah. She totally pulled that one out if her ass. She glanced over to see Reaver eyeing her curiously. "Hmm, how _do_ you do," he crooned. Turning to the King, he then said, "Your Majesty, I implore you to consider _keeping_ children in the work force. Why, think of how many youngsters that won't be able to help provide for their families if they're banished from the workplace. And they'll be so bored," he added. "Crime will increase, property value will decrease due to vandalism, and you simply don't want such pressure put on the crown."

She rolled her eyes.

"Your Majesty," she began, "Forcing children to work is inhumane. It's not a matter of financial means that disturbs the public, it's a matter of morality. Children should be attending school, educating themselves for a better future. Young minds should be molded, not tethered. If you would consider how many children that could pave the way for progress in the future with a proper education-"

"Education?" Reaver laughed. "A matter of morality? Your Majesty, do keep in mind that it would cost the crown _money_ to build a school-"

"No it wouldn't," Raven argued. Stabbing Reaver with an icy glare. "I'm fully prepared to personally sponsor the erection of a school in Bowerstone. It would cost the crown nothing. And would come from my company's own profits. The children would receive meals twice a day during school hours, and proper supervision."

The crowd got a kick out of that.

"And the money they would lose by being denied the right to work?" Reaver then asked.

"Their families could properly care for them if their earnings were increased to a fair wage for their work," she said. "And with fair wages, they can pay their taxes, Your Majesty."

Reaver rolled his eyes at her, and seemed confident that he would have his way, and Raven was so very tempted to chew her nails in anticipation of Logan's ruling. She hoped to hell he didn't suddenly change his mind. She totally held her breath while Logan decided.

"I see no reason to deny children a proper education in Bowerstone. Perhaps if they were taught principals, they might know better than to steal. Child labor will be admonished, and as soon as you are able, Miss Winters, start building a school."

The crowd righteously cheered.

Fuck yes. Now Albion was going to see he was human after all. She couldn't wait for word if this to reach Page, if it would. She dared Page to have an excuse to revolt against him now. She held herself together and resisted a victory dance, but she did smile, bow, and say, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"And," Logan then said, and the crowd came to a halt, total silence. "I would like to see my citizens paying their taxes regularly, for a change...Factory workers are to be paid a fair wage for their work, Miss Winters, Reaver, and I trust your businesses will conduct themselves fairly."

Again, the crowd was shocked and excited.

"And just what would you deem a fair wage, Your Majesty?" Reaver asked. Logan mulled it over.

"Five gold pieces an hour," he answered. To which the public approved, and Reaver was redfaced. Holy shit. That was pretty fair, from what she'd come to understand of expenses in Albion. For eight hours of work that was forty pieces a day. That was how much her entire outfit cost. That was enough to eat. To pay rent. To live.

Wait...oh fuck.

She was going to have to make up for however much this ended up costing the treasury. Because she knew Reaver was going to fuck him over somehow. Fuck fuck fuck!!

"There is one last matter to be address this morning, Your Majesty," Darcy informed. "A Mister Preeves would like a-"

"Oh for the last time no!" Logan reeled. "I am not letting that man anywhere near my-"

He paused, noticing that the crowd got quiet, wondering just what was it Mister Preeves wanted. Logan blanched.

"Court is dismissed," he said, waving everyone out. To which a few people actually groaned in disappointment. Oh she was so asking him about Preeves' request later. There was no way she could go without knowing.

She nodded politely to Reaver as she walked out of the throne room, gloating on the outside, but also freaking out on the inside. She could hardly believe she actually did it. She convinced Logan to change his ways. It was amazing. Butterflies lined the pit of her stomach. And for the first time since arriving in Albion, she genuinely looked forward to being there.

* * *

"Winter Enterprises?" Logan questioned, as he, Raven, and Darcy convened in the war room before lunch to finalize decisions made in court.

"You hate it don't you?" Raven pouted. "It was all I could think of."

"I think I'm more surprised your family name is Winters," he commented. "Interesting name."

"Yep. Marcus Winters. My adoptive father," she said.

"Ah-ah, Miss Raven," Darcy waggled a finger without looking up from the paper. "Personal information," he reminded, and Logan smirked when she rolled her eyes. "Hmm, interesting. The people of Brightwall reported having a Hero in their town this morning."

Raven glanced at Logan, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. So was Logan, considering only just last night she mentioned Frederick finding a music box beneath the Academy.

"That is interesting," he said, without tearing his eyes from Raven's.

"Yes, it says here they've taken to calling him the Falcon. Apparently he dresses as a mercenary, and his only identifying factor is a bird insignia on the back if his jacket." Darcy flipped the page. "I do hope he drycleans."

"What is it with bird names?" Logan founding himself inquiring aloud. "Sparrow...Falcon...Raven." Absently he gestured to Raven as he spoke.

"Hmm, so what does that make you, Your Majesty?" Raven asked with a smile. "Ye Old Crow?"

"Might I remind that ravens and crows are indeed the same bird," Darcy said with perfect timing.

"Yes, well, birds of a feather," she shrugged.

"Old Crow?" Logan scoffed. "I'm not old."

"Well, how old are you?" Raven asked him.

"Thirty-five."

Her eyes widened. "You're uh...you're younger than I thought you'd be."

"Have I aged that terribly?"

"You _could_ use a good skin regimen, Your Majesty," Darcy commented, producing a withering look from the King, to which the butler completely ignored. Raven resisted laughter.

"How old are you?" He asked Raven.

"Twenty-six."

"Twenty-six? I thought you were alot younger."

"Well, apparently I aged wonderfully," she gloated.

"Though you could _also_ use a good skin regimen, Miss Raven."

A withering look from Raven was cast toward the butler. Logan cleared his throat. When Darcy looked up to realize that both the King and Raven were eyeing him quite disdainfully, he took it as his cue. "Well then. I'll have someone from the kitchens put on some tea," he said, then strolled out of the room, winking at Logan on the way out the door.

When it was only the two, there was an awkward silence between them for a minute.

Nine years apart, were they? Well, suddenly he didn't feel so bad about the very deviant thoughts he had if her. She wasn't half his age. Young still, yes. But...not that young.

"So I'll...I'll get started on the plans for the school then," she said, deflecting conversation. "I imagine you'll have a busy day, so I'll take my work to my room and be out of your hair."

"I'll have Darcy bring you some tea," he said, more or less because he really could think of anything else to say but wanted to say something.

"Oh yes thank you," she said quickly, then gathered up paperwork before she left. "Oh and...thank you."

"You already said that."

"No, I meant thank you, for taking my advice in court today. I don't really think I can tell you how much it-"

"I think I already know," he said. Saving her the trouble of fumbling over an explanation. "Just...one thing, Miss Raven. One thing I want to know."

"What's that?"

"Something personal," he requested. "Just one thing. Anything, really. Great or small."

She considered that for a moment, before saying, "My favorite color is purple," she said, then went to open the door.

"Well, I was hoping for something just a little more specific," he complained, and she chuckled. She glanced back at him, eyes glazing over his attire.

"Alright," she bit her lip. "I _specifically_ like _royal_ purple."

He let out a sigh when she closed the door behind her.

* * *

In the privacy of her room, where she was free to wear man pants and a mercenary top without complaint, Raven piled maps and blueprints on her bed and sifted through them. She needed a good place in Bowerstone to build a school. Some place that she could afford to purchase and renovate when money started coming in. When playing the game, the Hero was given the option to continue child labor, or opt for Reaver's men to convert one of the factory's warehouses into a school. But things were different now, and she didn't have that option.

A knock in the door made her jump, and she expected it to be Darcy, but she heard, "Miss Raven? It's Elise. May I come in?"

"Of course," she called back, and in came the blonde, hefting something in her arms, having trouble with the door. "Here let me help you," she offered, coming to close the door behind her. She sniffed. "Oh my gosh is that apple pie?" She squealed.

Elise chuckled. "It is. Baked it myself. Thought you could use some company hiding up here, and we wanted to treat you to something. Me and everybody in the kitchen. So much has changed around the castle since you arrived. Just yesterday King Logan informed the staff we'd be allowed the weekends off now if we wanted. They can hardly believe it."

She set the pie down and unwrapped it, pulling forks and knives from her arpron.

"That's wonderful," Raven told her. "But what makes you so sure I had anything to do with that?"

Elise have her a look as if to say, 'Really, Raven? Don't be so dense.'

"There _is_ a bit of a downside. The King was sure to mention that in order to afford to increase our wages, he wouldn't be able to pay us for the weekends off. Any time taken off has to be taken without pay. But no one's complaining. It's time they get to spend with their families. And he was so nice about it too. And I'll bet my life he sleeps better at night. It shows on his face. He doesn't look so...well, so dark."

No he didn't did he? Raven was proud of that.

"Doing the right thing is good for the soul," Raven told her. She then moved papers out if the way so they could sit on the bed and indulge in pie together.

It tasted absolutely divine.

"Yes it is. And that's a mighty good thing your doing for the children in Bowerstone," Elise praised. "Building a school? It's things like that what people need right now. Like you said in court, pave the way to progress in the future." She chagrined. "I snuck in and listened," she then admitted. "So when will the school be open?"

"I don't have a date set," Raven lamented. "My company's still in the works. I don't have enough money yet to purchase the property to turn into a school. Or pay for anything else. I don't want to have to borrow the money from the King and set things back even further than they already are. There are still alot of changes that need to be made that the crown can't afford."

Elise nodded and took another bite of pie, soaking in her words. This was nice. Having a girl around to chat and eat pie with, talk about her troubles with. A bit different than discussing things with Darcy or Logan. Different conversation. Plus, they were men. Some things men simply couldn't understand about women. As she basked in thought of 'girl talk', Elise dropped her fork in the pie and her eyes got wide as if she'd had an epiphany.

"You could use my house!" She exclaimed. "Then you wouldn't have to pay for it! Knock out a few walls and it would be big enough!"

"Wait a minute, your house?" Raven backpeddled. "But what about your family?"

Her face fell a little. "My parents died and left the house to me," she explained. "There's no one there since I've been staying at the castle. And I don't thing mum and dad would be too upset. I think they'd like it."

"Are you absolutely sure about that? It's a big decision to make."

"I know, but that's how I know it's the right decision. Doing the right thing is never easy, you know."

"Well, I guess it's settled then. I'll just need to make the renovations and hire a teacher-"

"I could teach," Elise then suggested. "I was always helping Fred with his studies." She chuckled. "He's terrible at arithmetic. And you'll not have much luck finding anyone in Bowerstone who's educated enough. And I love children," she cooed. "Always wanted to have a big family."

Raven chuckled. "I'm guessing you and the Prince talked about having kids then huh?"

Elise blushed. "No not really. I mean...we're only sixteen. We have our whole lives ahead of us. And we didn't really do much _talking_ , if you know what I mean."

Raven laughed and nodded.

Wow. Fred was only sixteen?!

No wonder Logan treated him like a child when he barged in on him and Walter in the war room. He really was just a kid still. But people had to grow up pretty fast in Albion, didn't they? Just like she did back home. Maybe she could change that while she was there, and make it so kids could enjoy their childhood while it lasted. Maybe Elise was just the sort to help her make it happen.

Birds of a feather, right?


	11. Fine Dining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Logan contend with the affluently rich and powerful of Millfields, then, later that night, more of the secrets Raven harbors are brought to light...

Getting to know Elise as a person, instead of just a character, was like drinking grape soda. Bubbly and fizzy, while also ridiculously sweet. And speaking of soda, she wondered if it existed in Albion. She imagined they had sparkling champagne, but did they have nonalcoholic sparkling grape juice? That was the real question here.

But anyway, Darcy brought them some tea, and informed Raven that she still had an appointment with the tailor that afternoon to help the store with their books, and that the King would be inviting guests from Millfields for dinner that evening, to discuss investing in Winter Enterprises. Her company needed investors, and a market in which to sell her inventions. And since she had to go to the dress shop anyway, picking out a ballgown for the evening was also on the to-do list.

"Oh this is exciting!" Elise jumped up and down. "A formal dinner at the castle. We've not had one of those in a very long time. I just hope the guests are polite. People from Millfields are mannered enough but they're also very high society and tend to look down on the lower class."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

"Ever been to Millfields?"

Well, not in person.

"Well, I knew people that lived in Millfields."

"Ah," Elise nodded. "So...do you like Bowerstone? I mean like...do you like living here? Or...How long will you be at the castle? You gonna buy a house in Bowerstone or...well, with as much money as you'll make I imagine you'll move to a place like Millfields won't you?...Sorry. I'm blabbering. I just...I hope you stay a while. You're pretty nice. And it's nice to have someone like you around."

Awe. That was sweet of her. Raven felt terrible about not staying there forever when Elise said that.

But she had a life of her own to get back to when this was over.

"Well, I plan to be here as long as it takes to get my company up and running, get the royal finances in order, and make the changes needed in Bowerstone," she told her. "Give or take a few days, I plan to be here for the next six months at least."

"Oh that's wonderful," Elise said with a bright smile. Raven couldn't help but smile back.

Man, it was going to suck when she had to leave.

* * *

The tailor's financial problem was a simple miscalculation that took no time at all to fix. It was so easy of a thing that she refused to charge for her services. So instead she'd get a discount on the dress she purchased. Twenty percent instead of ten. Fair enough of a deal.

Picking out a dress was difficult though, and she dragged Elise along for the excursion. She needed a girlfriend to go shopping with, and Elise didn't complain. She was happy to get away from work. She gave her fashion tips, while Darcy monitored the appropriateness of her chosen attire of course.

It took most of the afternoon, but by the end of it, she purchased a lavender Elizabethan gown. Of course, trying to explain who Queen Elizabeth was would be weird and awkward, so she kept that to herself.

But the dress was pretty. The bodice dipped low and showed quite a bit of cleavage, but that was actually appropriate for women of Albion. As long as their length was past their knees. And their waist wasn't exposed. The collar was raised and fanned out across her shoulders, and the sleeves had a bit of a puff before slimming down at her forearms. And of course she had a bustle at the skirt, and of course she had to _wrangle_ herself into her enormous skirt, and there were matching gloves and the most adorable little pumps with two inch heels.

The only thing missing was a feux wig of some unnatural color and a mask. Neither of which she went for. When all three audience members of her fashion show, Elise, Darcy, and the tailor, urged her to purchase a wig she griped, groaned, and complained.

"I'm not from Millfields, and I don't intend to start acting like it," she said. "No offense," she then told the tailor who sported a poofy pink wig. "Tonight will be about showcasing my business plans, my inventions, and my sales pitch. Not about fashion. Tonight will be about changing industry. Not staying the same and acting like everyone else. I need to do that as myself, not as somebody else. I have to do it my way."

"That was surprisingly inspiring," remarked the tailor.

"It really was," added Elise. Then Darcy sort of shrugged.

"I must admit, Miss Raven, wig or no wig, you will certainly turn some heads...one of which will be the King's."

No one else saw it, but Raven saw Darcy wink, before resuming reading Albion's version of the tabloids. She actually felt herself blush a little at the thought of impressing Logan.

* * *

Logan paced in the foyer, hands behind his back to keep from wringing them.

The guests had gathered in the combat room to hear Raven give a speech, propose Winter Enterprises as an investment before dinner, but she'd yet to come down stairs.

Now, there was fashionably late, and then there was simply late, and Raven was teetering on the latter.

He turned sharply when he heard footsteps, and was prepared to chastise her tardiness, until he saw her. Then he simply stared mesmerized up at her as she descended the stair case...She was absolutely stunning. And the sudden urge to salavate almost overcame him. Dressed in a very light shade of purple that brought out her skin tone, and complimented her eyes. Her dark hair was pulled up and away from her face, and decorated with feathers.

_Black_ feathers. Fit for a little black bird. Raven Winters.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," she greeted in her false accent, coming to join him on the landing. He was speechless, and trying to remain focused on her face, not her bodice. "Do you hate it?" She then asked.

"No, I...You...look lovely," he managed to say, then extended his arm, to escort her to the combat room where guests waited. She took it and smiled up at him.

"Then smile, Logan," she then whispered in her real voice. "It won't kill you. Smiling makes you look _younger_ ," she then jabbed, causing him to roll his eyes.

Darcy was waiting at the door to announce them.

"Presenting His Majesty, King Logan," To which present company bowed respectfully, "And the guest of honor, Miss Raven Winters, of Winter Enterprises."

Guest were sure to 'ooh' and 'ahh', and certainly gave her their full attention. At that moment she let go of Logan's arm, and for some reason he hated that. Felt sort of lost without it. Like a ship with no anchor. But she proudly stepped up to serve their guests with a taste of her compelling attitude.

"Good people of Millfields," she addressed rather confidently, "First, on behalf of the people of Bowerstone, and His Majesty, I'd like to thank you for joining us this evening at Bowerstone Castle...Tonight is about industry in Albion. Progress. Innovation...and invention. Oh and _profit_ of course," she laughed. And so did the crowd. "I'm here to get in on that, and so are you, because what's better than a competition where everyone wins?...Where your investment benefits not only you but everyone around you? With Winter Enterprises, you can be right in the front seat of progress as it's made. Not just sitting back and watching it happen. But a pioneer of industry."

"As long as we don't have to work," called someone from the crowd and Raven laughed.

"No, that's _my_ job," she said. "Don't go stealing _that_ thunder away," she jabbed and again, people laughed. Her attitude was absolutely infectious. "I'm here to make you money, to fill your homes with the latest technology, to enrich your lives, and to bring Albion into the age of tomorrow. And with your support it's possible."

She took a moment to begin showing guests some of her designs, that Darcy had helped her comprise into a presentable display, sure to include illustrations. As for the blue prints and schematics, those were locked in the war room still, so that no one could steal and replicate her designs. And she showed them a model of the factory to be built in Bowerstone. Among many other things.

Logan was so curious of her origins. What sort of place could have such things as an electric icebox, motor carriages, and the many other things she advertised her company could make when it kicked off. She had an answer for just about anything as far as modern living, and Logan was fascinated by it all. No, she simply _couldn't_ be from a land across the sea. Not with her knowledge.

She'd accidentally let it slip the day they met that when she was in her world, she had a vision of Albion's future. Not her _country_ , her _world_. And he wondered...Was it possible?

If it were possible to believe she'd seen and done it all before, and was given the power to go back and do it all again...could he just as easily believe she was from and entirely different world, and somehow transported to Albion by magic? Did such magic exist? Could Heroes do more than simply magically travel from one place in Albion to another, but actually travel across the universe? Or to another plane of existence?

Which raised another question.

Was Raven a Hero?

"Dinner is served," was called from door way, and therefore it was time to reconvene in the castle's spacious dining hall. This was the first time in a very long time that Logan actually sat down and had dinner. He'd always taken his meals in the war room, or to his chambers. He'd rarely had guests. He felt strange sitting at the head of the table, lightheaded, thoughts whirling in his mind, but felt relieved to know that Raven would sit to his right, next to him.

At his left was a man from Millfields who'd the _most_ interest in Raven's work, and also appeared to be very attracted to her. Logan could see a dozen marriage proposals in her future from men all over Albion. She was smart, attractive, and provided her business kicked off, she'd have money. She'd be the most sought after bachelorette in the kingdom.

But oddly, somewhat to the King's relief, he kept in mind that likely she would turn them all down. She didn't seem to be the type to allow anyone or anything to tie her down unless it pertained to her business ventures, or the future of Albion. And he was relieved because he was jealous. He would never admit it, but he was.

"So I've come to understand you're a bit of a philanthropist, Miss Winters," commented the man to Logan's left. "That is _Miss_ , isn't it? Not Mrs.?"

"Yes," she answered, then glanced at Logan, who was leaning back in his seat and pretending to have a very solid relationship with his wineglass. "I plan to make some lasting changes during my stay in Bowerstone. Changes that benefit all social classes. But the working class of Bowerstone cannot be ignored. Happy workers is good for business."

"But won't you be in direct competition with Reaver Industries?" Asked the woman next to her. "A powerful company, and pretty popular too."

"Only because they've never had any competition," she reiterated. "And like I said, it's a competition where everyone wins." The woman next to her chuckled at that, before delving into the plate in front of her.

To no surprise, the gentleman asked, "Fancy yourself getting married in the future, Miss Winters?"

Instinctively Logan flexed his jaw in irritation.

Raven chuckled. "I'm waiting for the right man to come around."

"Are you now," the gentleman crooned. "And just who would be the right man for you?"

"Hmm, let's see." She thought about it for a momnt. "He'd have to be tall. Dark hair. Able to contend with a confident business woman such as myself."

"Sounds like you're describing Reaver," the woman next to her chuckled. Logan bristled.

Raven chuckled nervously. "Reaver's not my type. No...the man I'm after is a different sort."

"Well, best of luck to you, Miss Winters," the gentleman said, with a hint of disappointment. He was the same height as Raven, to Logan's chagrin. Then the man laughed. "I mean, the only other man that fits that description is His Maj-" he paused, glancing at the King, then looked down at plate. "-esty," he finished. He awkwardly cleared his throat, then put full concentration into finishing his meal.

"If you're bent on saving the working class of Bowerstone, you ought to consider having the Hero of Brightwall come work for you," the woman beside Raven joked, having completely glazed over the tail end of the previous conversation. "Word around Millfields is that he fancies himself a savior to the people."

"The Falcon, is it?" Another man across the table butted in. "I heard the bloke's a mercenary," he confided. "Kills people for money and all. Is that really what Heroes do nowadays? I always thought they did things like rescue cats from trees and whatnot. Didn't know killing people was Heroic."

"It depends on who you kill," Logan remarked, and the low rumble of chatter across the table fell silent. The man next to him looked uncomfortable.

Logan had executed many during his rule, and no one had forgotten that.

"His Majesty is right," Raven agreed, once more saving Logan from himself, to his relief. "And saving one cat from a tree is little compared to true heroism. I'm sure many of you heard of the Hero of Bowerstone, Her Majesty the Queen? Hers was a great burden to bear, as it was for all Heroes. To have great power comes with great responsibility. And it also means making many sacrifices. Sometimes people must do terrible things for the greater good. Like take the life of another. And to be gifted with magic? Inhuman strength and skill? It's very easy to be tempted by such power. I'm sure the Falcon is faced with this burden as well. And no. He's no mercenary. He only dresses like one."

"You make it sound as if you know him personally," the woman next to her said with a chuckle.

Raven smiled a little. "I know his type," she said.

"Fancy yourself marrying a Hero then?" The woman asked, and Raven rolled her eyes a little, positively fed up with matchmaking.

But she was trying to be polite and cordial, and not 'royally fuck up the deal', as she would say.

"I think when the right man comes along, it won't matter if he's a Hero or not," she said. "All that will matter to him is doing the right thing when it counts." She smirked. "And he'll be _really_ good in bed," she then added playfully, making the woman laugh.

Of course, all that did was stick Logan with the image of bending her over the map in the war room.

Gods, dessert couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

By the end of the night, nearly every guest was prepared to invest time, effort and money into her business. She'd charmed them all out of their purses, and after everyone left, she finally did her victory dance. While no one was looking of course.

Then she happily joined Logan in the war room for a drink. Finally having something to toast to.

"To Winter Enterprises," he said.

"Yes, and to changing the fate of Albion."

Their glasses clinked, both took and drink, and a moment of silence followed. Good grief he looked handsome that night. And taking dinner conversation into consideration, she realized that man from Millfields was right. She didn't mean to, as she was just being honest about it, but...yeah, she described her ideal husband and Logan fit that description. She sincerely hoped that her world had the equivalent of Logan's characteristics. Hoped that man was single, and liked highschool drop outs working on their sixth chance.

Coming to Albion sort of scratched out the fifth.

"Here's to hoping you won't have to go back and do it all again," Logan said. "It would be a shame if I ended up forgetting you in the process."

"Yeah I suppose so," she said.

But would he remember her when this was over? Honestly, would this world still exist once she left? Would anything stay the same, or would everything simply go back to the way it was once she left?...Too much to think about. No need to ruin a celebratory moment with negative thoughts...That's what Theresa was for.

"For what it's worth, Raven, even if we don't succeed...you're certainly changing lives. You've certainly changed my life. I'm glad I listened to you in the throne room when we met."

A flash of light blinded her and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she let out a sigh, seeing an empty field, sun shining down upon her and a clear blue sky, even though it was like ten o'clock at night. And to no surprise, Theresa appeared in front of her. Another vision.

"I'm very impressed," the seer commended. "Not only are you gaining Logan's trust, and working toward improving things for Bowerstone, but you've managed to restore the King's sense of morality as well."

Raven lifted a brow. "I have, have I?"

"You have. And I must say that your plan to start a business is rather ingenious as well. But I must warn you that Logan is right, Raven. You will make an enemy of Reaver, and that is very dangerous. Consider your options wisely when dealing with him."

"The only thing Reaver cares about is being immortal," Raven deflected. "Unless I could put a stop to his dealings with the Shadow Court, I highly doubt I'd change much in that department. I mean honestly, what sort of terrible outcome have you foreseen, anyway? Just what am I changing?"

Theresa pursed her lips.

"Reaver craves power, Raven. That includes power over others. And when dealing with an immortal Hero, keep in mind that he will pride self preservation above all else. If he feels that you threaten all that he aims to accomplish, you will become his victim."

"Then what should I do?" Raven asked her. "I can't go back on my plans now. Everything depends on them."

"No, you can't," Theresa agreed. "Which means you will need to gain the support of someone strong enough to contend with Reaver."

"A Hero. Which means Frederick."

"Yes," Theresa nodded. "You must continue to do all you can to encourage Logan to keep the promises Frederick might break. In doing so, you may gain the Prince as an ally, and stop the revolution. But tread carefully. The fate of Albion depends upon the choices you make."

Before Raven could ask anything more, the vision faded, and once again she was standing in the war room with Logan. Once again, she nearly forgot about what they were talking about. She blinked, and then nervously cleared her throat, feeling very awkward.

"Um, you asked to know something personal about me earlier," she brought up.

"Yes, I did," he said. She fiddled with the rim of her glass.

"Here's something personal. I'm...I'm absolutely terrified," she admitted. "I'm scared of what will happen if we don't succeed. I'm scared of not being able to go home. Scared of never seeing my family again. And yes, I lied when I said Reaver doesn't scare me. You asked me what I knew about him and...well..."

"Yes?" Logan asked, very interested in what she had to say.

"Well, you have to promise to keep this between us, and keep the promise this time around. At least for now...But I think it's time I started being completely honest about what I know."

"Go on."

She took a breath, and braced.

"Reaver's immortal. And he's a Hero."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho. More revelations. Are we curious as to how this will change things? I bet we are. XD


	12. Toy Soldiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth sucks man.

" _What_?"

"Yeah, didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"No I most certainly did _not_!... _How_... _why_...and _when_ did you learn this? And why did you suddenly decide to tell me _now_?"

"A vision from Theresa," Raven answered, finding that to be an appropriate excuse, then went to sit on the couch, not particularly caring if she ruffled her petticoat. She anxiously downed her drink in one hit. "You were right. I'm going to make an enemy of Reaver, going through with this business and-"

"Then find another way," Logan interrupted stepping closer. "If Reaver is truly that powerful, then only another Hero could stand against him. Unless _you_ were a Hero. And even then, would you be skilled enough to evade him in combat?"

"No," she admitted. "I'm not a Hero, and I couldn't. Which is why we need your brother on our side. But either way it doesn't matter. I have to proceed as planned. _We_ have to. There are still alot of changes to be made and a lot of decisions depend on it. I thought I should be honest with you. I need you to trust me more now than ever with what I'm about to ask."

"And just what are you about to ask of me?"

"Acquit Page of her crimes. And allow the Swift Brigade to leave Mourningwood Fort."

"What?!" Logan gaped in shock. "You mean acquit the leader of the Bowerstone Resistance of _treason_?! And Major Swift and those brigands he calls soldiers?!"

"Yes. If you don't, they'll ally with Frederick against you."

"Are you completely mad?!"

Raven sighed. She knew this was coming. "You wanted the truth and there you have it. You've trusted me enough to take my advice in court and allow me to fill the treasury, and you even believe I'm from the future. But then you turn around and question _this_?! Logan-"

"You are asking me to pardon a woman who is a _traitor to the crown_ ," he emphasised very angrily. "And if I allow Swift and his men to abandon their posts-"

"Then there won't be anyone out there keeping hallow men in check," she said. "Oh don't think I don't know you had a good reason to send a group of soldiers to Mourningwood in the first place. Believe me I know. And in order to gain Swift as an ally he'll have to help his men get rid of them. Also promise to restore the original guard, the men your mother trusted, when he sits on the throne. But Swift and his men think you've abandoned them. That you used them like pawns, that they're...toy soldiers, I suppose. Disposable."

"How in the hell do you know-"

"Everything?" Raven laughed. "It's a curse really. But before you start judging me, remember that _you_ were the one who broke your promise to Aurora, and kept Theresa's warning of the coming darkness a _secret_ for the last three and a half years... _You_ were the one to allow Reaver to kill his factory workers."

"I haven't done that yet," he argued. "You changed that. You dare persecute me for something I haven't even considered yet?!"

"Fair enough, but what about everything else?"

Logan growled, totally raging at her and kicked over the nearest piece of furniture. That was actually a good sign. He wasn't actually mad at her. Just the situation. But even if he was mad at her, he took it out on that poor defenseless end table and not her. Which meant he'd truly changed, just like Theresa said. But he was still pissed. He marched over to the liquor bottle and poured another drink. She got up from the couch and took the chance of getting within arm's reach of him.

"Alright look. There's one person Page has it out for more than you," she said. "And that's Reaver. I might be able to veer her towards him instead, make her see Reaver as to blame for everything that's wrong with Albion, but not completely, not unless you take her off the wanted list. You can make up any excuse, say there's not enough evidence to prove she's a traitor, and call it a day. I can handle the rest. But as for Swift-"

"Swift was very loyal to my mother," Logan said. "And such loyalty was not passed on to me. Swift and I have a very complicated relationship. He may still ally with Frederick and turn against me."

Raven wracked her brain.

"What if we told him the truth?" She suggested. "Told him about the attack? We could use someone like Swift on our side. I've seen him in action. And not only that, but do you really want to execute him Logan?"

He whipped around, looking completely shocked by such a thing.

"Why would I ever do that?"

She shamelessly grabbed the bottle from his hand and poured herself a glass. "You will to 'protect the interests of the people'," she derided.

"Now when I said complicated past, I didn't mean _that_ complicated," he defended. "Swift is a good man. I would never-" he paused. Froze almost completely still. "Reaver had been the one to advise me on financial matters until you came along...among other things. Reaver convinced me to kill Swift, didn't he?"

"I wasn't there to see all of it play out. Only his execution," Raven admitted. "He might have. In fact there's a lot of things he might be responsible for. I only ever saw things from Frederick's point of view. Which was why it was so easy to believe that everything that happened was because of you. I didn't see what was going on right here in Bowerstone Castle. I didn't know everything. Not at first."

Logan rubbed his temple.

"Until it was too late to change it?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," she answered.

"Then start from the beginning," he said. "Start from the _very_ beginning, tell me _everything_ , tell me exactly how it played out and I'll... I'll help you get to Swift and Page," he reluctantly agreed. Raven let out a sigh. "And I _mean_ the beginning. What was supposed to happen that day? The day you arrived in the castle?"

Raven tipped back her glass.

"Alright. Here goes."

* * *

She'd taken to removing her shoes and curling her feet up underneath her on the furniture as she talked. He didn't protest such mannerisms, much less say anything at all. He sat at the other end of the couch and stared at the map as he listened.

"I wasn't supposed to be there. It was actually _three_ factory workers instead of two, but your guards grabbed me instead. Which was my ticket to getting into the castle. But anyway, that day, you made Fred choose between Elise and the protesters, and no matter which choice he made it didn't make a damn bit of difference. It was all the proof Walter needed to get him out of the castle that night. What you did that day was show him how much you didn't care about the people of Albion.

He suspected for some time Fred was a Hero, saw how strong he was becoming. Unnaturally strong, so that night he snuck him out of the castle and showed him your mother's Guild Seal. When he touched it, his powers were awakened and he had a vision from Theresa, who told him a revolution was needed. Gave him gauntlets to channel his Will and use magic. They left through the Cullis gates and traveled to Mistpeak. The first people they found to help them were the Dwellers you booted off the land and forced to live in the mountains. Sabine agreed to ally with him if he promised to restore their land.

Then he helped the people of Brightwall to earn their trust, and as you know, that's when he found the music box. After that he traveled to Mourningwood, of course, not before being privy to a horrible disaster with the monorail. It was destroyed by Hobbes. God I hate those things. Did you know they're actually children? Or were, before they were transformed. I was _mortified_ when I learned that."

Logan shuddered at the thought, took a drink from the bottle, then handed it to her.

"In Mourningwood he found Swift and his men, helped them wipe out the hollow legion. Perk of being a Hero, he can survive injuries that would seem fatal to anyone else. Like your mom, getting shot out of a window by Lucien Fairfax when she was a kid. Fell like two hundred feet. Well, Fred has similar abilities. He helped Swift, gained their trust and support, and left with the promise to restore Swift and his men as the royal guard. Replacing the elite soldiers you've been employing.

They discreetly traveled to Bowerstone through Mourningwood and ended up in Industrial through the sewers. They arrived the day Reaver decided to gun down factory workers threatening to strike. That was the first time he learned how bad things had become in that part of town, and just how saintless Reaver's been. He learned just what sort of things you've really been allowing to happen. He met Page, at a discreet location, but Page doesn't trust easily. She wanted to see if Fred would really improve things for Albion.

She had to see him helping the people of Bowerstone. Then some of her agents were apprehended and held hostage at Reaver's mansion in Millfields. They managed to infiltrate it, rescue the hostages, but only because Reaver let him live. I was never certain if that was because you gave Reaver instructions not to kill him, or if there wasn't some other reason. Reaver's motives have never been clear. He's only ever been out to help himself. Even when he helped your mother in her youth, he wasn't exactly some selfless, benevolent Hero. He had his own reasons for helping her. Very selfish reasons I'm sure.

But, anyway, Fred gained Page's trust, and promised to abolish children being forced to work, and promised to undo the poverty in Bowerstone. Then...well, we found out you were holding a speech at the castle. And Fred had to see what it was about. You see, while Fred was busy helping the people of Bowerstone, Swift abandoned his post in Mourningwood and joined the Resistance, branding him a traitor. You apprehended him trying to turn loyal men against you, and...well..."

She took a hard swig of brandy when she paused.

"You made a display of him. Had him shot on the front steps of the castle, in front of everyone. Including your brother."

Logan leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. "Dammit, Swift," he muttered under his breath.

He would have. Had he learned that Major Swift betrayed him like that, he would have. It would not have mattered why. But if Swift committed treason...

"But Swift didn't die in vain," Raven then continued. "He managed to get a message to the Resistance. 'You will find allies in Aurora'." Logan's head snapped up at that. "Fred and Walter highjacked one of your ships and we set sail. Without a second thought. That's...that's how we learned about the Crawler. The ship was attacked during the voyage and wrecked on the coast. Fred was...Fred was stranded outside Shadelight cave."

Logan nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

Shadelight. Fred was stranded in the belly of the beast. The monster's den. He was trapped in the Crawler's own dwelling.

"He made it out. He survived. But Walter...Walter was nearly corrupted by the darkness. He almost died. Kalin managed to save him, and-"

"And what about you?" Logan asked, glancing up at her. She didn't look at him. She stared at the bottle, took a drink, then held it out to him.

"Fred promised Kalin that he'd-"

"And what about _you_ , Raven?" Logan repeated, demanding an answer.

"Obviously I'm alive aren't I?" She snapped. "And we secured an alliance with Kalin and her people when Fred promised to do what you wouldn't. He promised to return to Aurora and help it's people. Kalin forked over her fleet. And when we returned we launched an attack on Bowerstone. The Old Quarter was completely destroyed. So many people were killed, and you had no choice but to surrender. And after Fred was crowned King of Albion, on the day of your trial you confessed to abandoning Aurora in favor of preparing for the inevitable attack on Albion shores.

Only _then_ did Theresa decide to reveal she'd been playing him from the start because only a Hero can defeat the Crawler for good. Only a Hero can sit on the throne and keep the realm safe." She sat up straight, looking very cross just then. "But its all a load of _bullshit_ , isn't it?" She asked. "Do you really think a _sixteen year old boy_ sitting on the throne is what Albion needs?!"

"No, but I didn't have any control over that obviously, now did I?" He asked. "And all the King's men...fell like _little...toy...soldiers_." He took a drink. "This is truly the future you've seen for Albion?" She nodded. "Now I see why you despise Theresa."

"Not completely. But yes. She and I don't exactly _see_ eye to eye." She made a gesture in reference to the seer being blind, and Logan scoffed a little.

"If I send soldiers to Mourningwood to garrison the Fort, can you guarantee that it will stop Swift from allying with Frederick?" He asked.

"Only if we convince Swift that you've been preparing for a country wide invasion. Or somehow convince Fred you're not the enemy. We have to convince him that everything you've been doing is for Albion, not your own personal gain."

"Then you do it," he suggested. "Swift might listen to you when he wouldn't believe me. My men can escort you to Mourningwood to meet with him, and you can handle the rest."

"What makes you think I could-"

"Because you know Swift as well as I do," Logan told her.

"But he hasn't met me yet."

"That doesn't mean you can't appeal to him somehow...And I have a feeling Swift's men catching sight of an attractive woman like you, rather than the King of Albion, will put them at ease. My men can handle the hallow legion until Frederick arrives if necessary."

She actually blushed a little when he pointed out that she was attractive. Even as warm as the color of her skin was, it showed on her face. She glanced away and bit her lip. Honestly, what was stopping him from taking her right then and there in the war room? Other than the fact that even though she knew many secrets of his, they barely knew one another as people? And he had no way of knowing if the feeling was truly mutual.

"I'll...I'll try," she agreed. A sudden curious thought struck him just then.

"How did you meet my brother?" He asked.

"We met in Mistpeak," she answered.

"And now, since you came here, he has no idea who you are, and no idea that you ever helped him at all?"

"None whatsoever."

"You sacrificed alot, didn't you? Your family, your friends, and anyone you knew, as well as your friendship with Frederick. All on a chance that I might have listened to what you had to say?"

She nodded. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I'll pardon Page. But you will have to find some way to convince her it isn't a ploy."

"Thank you." She leaned back and pulled the pin from her hair. _No. No, don't do that. Don't let don't your hair down in a seductive way. I can't take it_. She sighed and fluffed her hair. He groaned inwardly. "I'm tired," she said. "I think it's way past my bedtime and I have alot to do tomorrow."

She slowly rose to her feet.

"Right. Of course. Yes. Erm...Goodnight then?"

"Goodnight," she said, and smiled a little. Then she paused. "Oh, right, um," she turned to lavishly bow, "Goodnight, Your Majesty," she then said, and he could help but chuckle a little at how absurd she looked. Until she stood up straight and he caught a spectacular view of her cleavage.

Thankfully she picked up her shoes and left the war room before he became tempted enough to reach out and grab her. Then he unceremoniously flopped back against the couch, letting out a frustrated growl.

Maybe things would change when she left Bowerstone for a little while. If she wasn't right there in front of him to distract his mind and body. As they say, 'Out of sight, out of mind.'

He hoped that saying rang with truth.

And he hoped to hell he didn't get her killed.

* * *

Raven was desperate to get out of that horrible dress the second she got into her room, closed and locked the door behind her. She felt like she was suffocating. Part of it was the corset, part of it was the alcohol, and then part of it...the BIGGEST part...was Logan.

Before she left, he gave her a look that said _'I'm one second away from bending you over the map and fucking your brains out.'_

There was no mistaking that look, because it matched the very thoughts running through her mind for part of the night.

She swallowed hard, and shrugged to breathe, thinking about that look. Quickly she unlaced the back of her gown and peeled it from her shoulders, then struggled with that blasted corset. Thankfully there were buttons instead of laces, but they were in the back. _Fucking corsets._

_I bet Logan could get it off in five seconds...and get me off in two._

She sighed, once freed from her cloth prison. Then, after stripping off the rest of what she wore, she snuggled up underneath the covers, agonizing over the way Logan undressed her with his eyes.

Writhing, absolutely _dying_ to get him out of her head.

Trying to resist the urge to lure the King into her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. Both of them go to bed that night with dirty thoughts of each other? Wonder where that could lead...XD


	13. Sleepless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some shameless smut because my readers deserve it :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, Logan gets a little pervy ;)

Logan quietly shut the door to his chamber and leaned against it, clutching an object in his hand. He held it up in the dim light to inspect, running his thumb over the soft, smooth edge of an ebony feather. Raven's hair pin. She'd absently left it on the leather couch in the war room, and Logan snatched it up before he went to bed. He would've knocked on her door and handed it to her, but if he went to her room he would never leave.

He tried and _failed_ to keep from thinking about her.

He studied the cluster of down feathers and onyx jewelry attached to a pin before closing his eyes, once more imagining the way in which she pulled it from the crown of her head, letting thick curls tumble to her shoulders. Letting out a lush and lanquid sigh as she did so. He could feel the hair raise on the back of his neck when he thought of that hair brushing against his skin, as a foreign accent whispered his name.

He shuddered. He couldn't help but raise the hair pin to his face for a moment, inhale the scent, and he just knew it smelled like her hair still. He clenched his jaw. The smell was sweet, succulent, and maddening.

He pried himself from the door and made his way into the room, setting the pin aside on a table before undressing. He felt strangled by his own clothes. Hot, and starting to sweat. She drove him absolutely insane and it left physical effects. He felt tired, worn, and hazy. Exhausted just from wracking his brain, theorizing about her, how she came to know so much about him and his past, and the way she looked at him, the man she saw him to be.

But he also felt invigorated; electrified by her presence, jolted back to life like flipping a switch and powering on a machine. The minute he saw her in the throne room that day he became obsessed with her; her hair, her skin, her eyes, her voice, and the way she had the uncanny ability to rip away the curtain and reveal the scarred, damaged, jilted and jaded man underneath...and when she strolled into the castle wearing that outfit, he practically died right then and there.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and slicked fallen strands of hair away from his face, then rubbed his eyes. He was just tired. Half drunk and tired, right? He groaned and flopped backward on the bed staring up at the ceiling.

Raven Winters.

_'Come to my room, Logan. You know you want to...I'm just inside. Ready and waiting...Come... Come for me, please...'_

Fucking Raven Winters.

His cock was hard as a steel blade at the thought of sneaking into her guest room, burrowing under the covers and molesting her. Oh, he'd be slick about it too. She'd already be a sleep, and would wake to find him gently parting her legs, his tongue lapping her moist center, make her shiver, tremble at his touch, and whimper so helplessly.

He couldn't take it anymore. As he lay there, imagining the sound of her voice, he reached down under his trousers, grabbed his cock, and started to stroke it...Slowly at first, picturing in his mind Raven waking up as he assaulted her with his tongue, panting breathlessly, _'Logan, what are you-'_

_'I can't take it anymore. I need you, Raven.'_

Picturing her head slamming back against the pillow when he continued. Picturing her moaning, _'Oh...fuck...please...'_ Her breath catching in her throat. _'Oh yes...right there.'_

He stroked himself a little faster when he then imagined how she would return the favor, push him down onto the bed, her tangle of hair brushing his skin as she kissed down his chest, his stomach, and then gripped him tightly. Her lips swollen and pouting from sleep, soft as velvet against his tip, the way she might lick them in order to glide seamlessly down his shaft. He pumped his cock harder at the thought of that mouth going all the way down, taking in the whole of his length.

His hand started mimicking the way her mouth might feel, the way in which she moved, the rhythm. He throbbed with need, imagining how she dripped, desperate and wanting, jealous of the attention. Picturing lifting her up, pulling her onto his lap, her legs resting against his hips, and the way she might effortlessly guide him in until he was flush with her. The way she'd move slowly at first, making him rise up to meet her. And then he feverishly jerked at the thought of her perfect, round breasts bouncing as she rode him.

When he knew he was about to come, he sat up a little, propping himself up with an elbow, a better position, shaking from head to toe, about to burst at any second.

And in his mind he pictured Raven above him, grinding hard against him, begging him to come.

_'Please, come for me, Logan...Oh...yes...right there...like that...'_

And rest was utter nonsense, a series of moans and sighs filling his ears as with a few final jerks of his hand he boiled over, and came, spilling out onto his lower abdomen, and he flopped back once more against the bed as the last of the high washed over him, numbing him from the inside out.

He didn't want to move. Didn't want to get up. Hadn't the energy to pry himself from the bed to clean himself up. So he just lay there for a few minutes, basking in the release. It was absolutely nothing compared to the real thing, but it kept him from going absolutely bonkers for the remainder of the night.

Gods, she was beautiful. He took back a previous thought of his. He'd been wrong, and she was _indeed_ the sort of beautiful a man would die for. To him, she most certainly had become. But it was more than that. He chuckled quietly as he finally felt motivated enough to get up, and pried himself from the bed. She was the sort of woman a man would want to _live_ for. That's what she was.

Whoever that man turned out to be, Logan prayed they had enough strength to withstand her storm, patience to curb her temper, and love to make her whole and complete.

Then he wondered if that man could be him.

* * *

Raven squirmed beneath the covers.

She couldn't stop thinking about him.

She almost felt ashamed of herself for picturing the King on his knees in front of her, as she sat on the leather couch in the war room, imagining him lifting her skirts. She squirmed again under the blanket, gripping the sheet, feeling trapped. She needed to get laid. That's what she needed. Honestly, it was just sexual frustration, wasn't it? Yeah. That's what it was. Just a bit of tension needing relieved, that's all.

Her hand slipped down the front of her, absently fondling a breast first, picturing the King's mouth on it, making her groan a little out loud. The way his hair might fall out of place, a few strands hanging down, brushing her skin. His teeth nipping at her just a little. His breath growing heady on her skin when he slipped a finger inside her, feeling how wet she was. Her hand reached down to do that very thing. First, gently massaging the outside, between folds, already wet, glistening, her finger easily sliding across, making her tremble, sensitive to the touch.

She could easily imagine him peeling away his tunic, stripping down to nothing, and no doubt bearing scars on his arms, legs, and torso from fighting. He may have been King and ruler of Albion who sat on a throne now, but he wasn't always. He was a soldier, fought battles alongside his men, until the battle he lost in Aurora. She could imagine the damage it left behind, picture herself sitting up to kiss the scars on his chest, trace the faded lines with her fingers, and almost feel hardened, senewy muscles taught beneath her hand.

She slipped a digit inside and instantly swelled around it, moving slowly and carefully across the bundle of nerves that scorched like fire with need. She pictured him bending her over the map in the war room, just like his eyes said he wanted to do to her. A hand gripping his length to guide himself in, tugging her hair, just a little, but not too much. And then his other hand gripping her tightly as he started to buck.

Her legs started shaking, and every muscle tensed. Her toes curled as she prodded, and started to move faster. She reached down with her other hand to massage her clit while she shamelessly fucked herself to pieces, imagining it was him. Her hand started shaking. She wasn't going to be able to take much more of this. She was going to get off that night, one way or another. Either by herself, or she was going to march to his room and demand that he fuck her.

No, she lied, she wasn't going to go to his room. Shit, she could only imagine how that would turn out. Probably horribly. So her eyes snapped tightly shut, and her fantasy of Logan slamming into her from behind over the map resumed. She inserted a second finger, her middle and ring finger now reaching deep inside to find that most sensitive area and she tightened around them when it hit her.

She was so close already, and she could feel a warm pool of euphoric energy starting to build in her core, and a wave of it spread from the tips of her toes, up through her legs and to the rest of her. Picturing Logan's knees starting to buckle, so close to coming inside of her, shaking, and the sounds he would make. The heat rolling off of him and the sweat dripping down his face to land on her back. Imagining his eyes rolling back and closing as he came was what did it for her.

Coincidentally, at the time she swelled completely and burst, throbbing, spilling warm juices over her hand, dripping down between her legs and soaking the bed. Her head jerked up, sensitive to even the feel of her fingers inside her, and all she could do was slowly pull them out and let her whole body melt into the bed. She was done for at that.

She couldn't move. Didn't want to really. She panted, having lost her breath from the intensity of the orgasm, and lay there for a few minutes, breathing heavily, exhausted, and really wishing it had been him instead of her hand. But it was enough to chip a little off the tension, and soon enough, she drifted to sleep.

But she had a very strange dream.

She was in the throne room, but oddly, she was the one sitting on the throne. Page, Ben, Kalin, Sabine, Walter and the Prince were all there, with a sea of other faces in the background. Guards dragged Logan into the room and forced him to his knees in front of her. Then, weirdly, Theresa appeared beside her.

_'The day has come, Raven, for you to judge Logan's fate. But there will be consequences. If you let Logan live, you will never be able to acquire the power to go home. But if you let him die, you can return.'_

Ho...ly...shit.

_'Now choose, Raven, for the fate of Albion depends on you.'_

She glanced around at all the faces staring at her, all the people watching her, then looked down at Logan on his knees. He was pleading with his eyes, begging her to save him, but if she saved him, she'd be trapped in Albion forever? And in order to go home she'd have to let him die?...But this was why she was sent to Albion in the first place. To change his fate. To change the outcome. This wasn't supposed to be how it ended!

She got up from the throne and ran, but no matter how fast she ran, she felt like she was being pulled backward. The harder she pumped her legs, the farther away the door seemed to be.

_'Make your choice, Raven, or everyone will die and your world will be destroyed,'_ came the Crawler's voice. _'Everything you have and love will die.'_

_'No!!'_ She screamed, clawing for the door...

* * *

Logan almost couldn't look Raven in the eye the following morning when Darcy let her into the war room, and she strolled in, dressed in her savvy business attire, complete with the mauve jacket, buttoned up in the front. As bright and effervescent as ever, though she looked like she didn't sleep well. Her hair was down around her shoulders and she marched over to the couch, looking for something.

"Is everything alright?" He asked. She shrugged.

"I could've sworn I left my hair pin in here last night. I can't seem to find it anywhere." He pulled nervously at his collar when he heard that. "Thought it would look nice. Oh well...I'm headed to Bowerstone Industrial."

"Miss Raven thought it would be wise to begin work on the factory," Darcy remarked. "We shall start with obtaining the manual labor needed for the renovations."

"Of course," Logan remarked, looking away when Raven turned around. "I'll assemble the men to leave for Mourningwood tomorrow," he told her. She nodded.

"An expedition in Mourningwood?" Darcy inquired.

"Yes," she confirmed. "There is a very important man at the Fort that needs to be relieved of his post. It's long overdue."

"Ah," Darcy mouthed.

"Everything alright?" She asked, and Logan turned away from the map to look at her when he realized she was speaking to him.

"Hopefully it will be soon," he said. As soon as they were profiting from her business, fully prepared for an attack on Albion, and as soon as he managed to get her off his mind.

She smiled. "It will be," she said encouragingly. She gathered needed papers she left in the war room and Darcy collected them from her loving hands, rolling them up and placing them in a carpet bag. With one last flash of a smile she left, and Logan relaxed against the map.

Then he let out a sigh.

When he turned to look at the map, plotting the safest route to travel to Mourningwood, he remembered something Raven said. He leaned over the map, looking at the world. Then he chuckled.

"This is _Raven's_ Albion," he said aloud. "And she'd sooner watch it burn than ever surrender it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man these two really need to get laid, don't they?
> 
> Also, how about that weird dream of hers, right? Wouldn't that suck? And sorry that there's a whole lot of plot coming up and not much smut. Hopefully this will tide you over for now. And let's hope these two have what it takes to weather the storm coming up soon...


	14. A New Doctor in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's trip to Industrial takes an unexpected turn...

Down in the belly of Bowerstone city, Raven stepped out of the carriage to stand in front of the newly purchased warehouse and gaze up at the patchwork of a building. Honestly, it wasn't the state of disrepair that had Raven in a foul mood. No, actually, thanks to her newly acquired investors, she'd have the money and the materials to renovate. She just needed workers. But what had her in a foul mood was just knowing that everything depended on this.

She and Darcy wasted no time in hanging up the banner that read, 'Factory coming soon!' Drawing attention to herself and the butler by passerby. People coming to gawk as she then stood out on the street, next to Darcy, who now held parchment and pen in hand, in case anyone wanted to apply.

"People of Bowerstone Industrial!" She bellowed, loud and clear. "Albion needs you!" Yeah, she knew she sounded like one of Logan's posters, and probably looked ridiculous, but she was turning heads. People were curious. And she needed to get attention. "My name is Raven Winters! The proud owner of Winter Enterprises, and I am _not_ here to make money!" People looked at her like she was insane at that. She chuckled. "No...I'm here to make _you_ money! I'm offering anyone who can lift a finger _six_ pieces an hour for labor!"

The crowd gasped, glancing to one another, perhaps wondering if they could believe it. That was a higher wage than what Reaver Industries was now subject to pay it's workers. People gathered closer. Darcy shot her a look, as if to say, 'I hope you know what you're doing, Miss Raven.'

Oh, she knew what she was doing. She was attracting a workforce with competitive wages. Reaver could cut them lose all he wanted, but they'd come work for her and he'd have no choice but to pay his workers better if he wanted to keep his company afloat.

"Let me make you money, Bowerstone!" She shouted at the crowd. "Let me fill your pockets! Let me enrich your lives! My company plans to lead Albion to greatness, and I need you to make it happen!" She looked around at the faces. "Aren't you tired of barely scraping by? Aren't you tired of wondering how you'll feed your families? Let Winter Enterprises be the solution! Help me make Albion great again!"

That did it. Boy did it ever. People came left and right to sign up for work at the warehouse, and as soon as her investors came through with their end of the deal, she'd have the tools and supplies to make it happen. By the end of the week she'd have enough of the renovations done to start work on the assembly line. She stood by and watched as people from all over the Industrial quarter started making their way to Raven and Darcy, who took their names, ages, and work experience down on paper, and gave a receipt of sorts, with the royal seal that they were to bring to the warehouse when they were ready to put them to work.

People asked questions, and she was happy to answer. What sort of work would they be doing? What sort of things would the factory be making? They were easy to talk to, mostly because when Raven looked into the faces of those she spoke to, she saw herself. She saw people who went through hard times, and needed a chance. The likes of which they wouldn't get with Reaver Industries.

Some of them were workers who'd already been laid off by Reaver's company because he didn't wish to lose money having to pay them better. Just like Logan said would happen. She brought smiles to people's faces when she shook their hands and thanked them for applying. Which was more than they expected from a business person, or the owner of a company, like Raven.

She just finished shaking the hand of a new employee when out of the corner of her eye she spotted that man again. The man that had been following Raven when she went to purchase property. She instantly recognized him, standing at the back of the crowd. Again, like before, he didn't approach, didn't say anything at all, just watched Raven carefully. One of Reaver's men, most likely. He was dressed like a mercenary or a thug. Whoever he was, Raven didn't recognize him from the game. So it wasn't anyone significant.

He turned to leave the scene and she was just about to follow him when she heard a kid pleading with Darcy.

The boy looked to be about ten maybe.

Raven stepped closer to hear the conversation better.

"Please sir, I have to work!" He said. "Why can't I come work for Miss Winters?"

"I'm sorry," Darcy said to him. "But His Majesty banned children from working. It's illegal. Now run along. Go on now, back home you go."

"But you don't understand! My mum is sick! She can't get out of bed. If I don't work we won't have any money! Please just let me work! I don't care what I have to do! I'll do anything! Please, my mother needs me!" He spotted Raven and ran up to her. "Please, Miss Winters! My mum is broke, and I have to help her!"

"Where's your father?" She asked him.

"He's gone, Miss," the boy answered. "Ran off with some tart from the Old Quarter. I'm the only one mum has to take care of her. And she's sick. She won't get any better."

She sighed and knelt to get a good look at the boy. She never counted on something like this happening if she pushed Logan to abolish child labor. Never counted on children begging to work when they didn't have to. But this boy had to. She had to help him. Somehow. He had dark skin, was covered in dust and dirt, and sported green eyes. Just like her. It tugged at her heart strings. He hid curly brown hair beneath a newsboy cap, and his vest was about the only thing not completely shredded, nor covered in soot, or whatever that was.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"My name's Thomas, ma'am."

She glanced at Darcy, then back at Thomas. "Darcy, can you handle things for me?"

"Of course, Miss Raven, but where are you-'"

"Take me to your mother," she said to Thomas, holding out her hand.

He took it in his and led the way.

...He took her to the homeless shelter. She recognized it immediately. Which made her feel even worse than she already did. It meant this boy and his mom couldn't even afford their own home. Likely they were booted out on their asses when she got sick and couldn't afford to pay rent. She'd like to find this boy's father and punch him in the face for leaving them to such a fate. She followed Thomas upstairs and to the little shack if a room they'd been staying in.

Sure enough, there is mother was, looking terrible, to weak to get out of bed. She looked to be in her mid thirties, and rather an older version of her son. Same hair color, same skin tone, though she looked pale.

"Mummy, there's someone here to see you," Thomas said, but she was in and out of it, and she coughed. Raven knelt before the bed and put a hand to her forehead.

"She's burning up," she told Thomas. "How long has she been like this?"

"A while now," he answered. "And she hasn't gotten any better. Only worse. I thought at first it was like that time I caught a cold and Mum took care of me while I was stuck in bed. But it's worse, isn't it?"

Raven sighed. She glanced around the room, hoping to get some idea of what was making her sick and it could've been anything. Food poisoning, maybe. The food wasn't exactly anything to praise in a homeless shelter. And there was a moldy loaf of bread on the table. She spotted an empty potion bottle nearby. A healing potion. It didn't do a damned thing, which led Raven to the conclusion that all a healing potion would do was accelerate blood clotting to allow cuts to close faster. But as far as bacterial or viral infections it was useless.

She reached into her jacket for a pen and coaxed his mother into opening her mouth. Using the pen as a suppressant, she examined her throat, noted on how she coughed, ran a fever, and had all the symptoms of bacterial pneumonia. She remembered Mark coming down with the exact same thing. It was treated with antibiotics, but where the fuck was she going to get antibiotics in Albion?

"What's wrong with her?" Thomas asked her. She sighed again.

"Well, I'm no doctor, but I think she's come down with pneumonia."

Thomas' eyes got wide. Obviously she wasn't the first person to have pneumonia in Albion. And then he got really upset.

"She's going to die, ain't she?" He asked, and Raven put a hand on his shoulder. Maybe, maybe not, if they could find some way to treat her now, before it got worse.

She wracked her brain.

_Think Raven think! You may not be a doctor but you're from a world with science and medicine. Think!_  
  
_But I'm an engineer. Or...well, studying to be one. I'm not cut out for this. I don't want to tell this boy his mom's going to die, but...I have no way to help her. Where am I going to get penicillin in..._

The moldy loaf of bread caught her attention once more.

The answer practically smacked her in the face.

She'd watched a video once of how penicillin was cultured from bread mold, but even if she could somehow find the means of assembling a machine to cultivate the enzymes, she had no idea how to administer the right doses of medication. And what if his mother was allergic to penicillin? What then? Holy fuck, what the hell was she going to do?

A knock on the door jolted Raven out of her thoughts and startled both her and Thomas. A young man about Raven's age stepped in, scrawny, wearing glasses, and sort of looked like Taron Egerton, but with black hair, slicked over to the side and he looked very shy and nervous.

"S-s-scuse m-me miss," he stuttered helplessly. "B-but there's...there's...a m-man to see you. D-D...Dar-"

"Darcy?" She asked and he nodded. Poor thing couldn't even string a sentence together. "That's my assistant." She turned to Thomas. "Stay here with your mother. She'll be alright," Thomas looked relieved by that, "But she'll need you here to look after her. See if you can't get some cold water and a rag to wet her forehead, try to keep her fever down." Thomas nodded. She turned to the adorable, albeit stammering young man in the doorway. "Could you do me a favor and go to Bowerstone castle and fetch my friend Elise? I may need her help too."

The man nodded, and left the door, with Raven following him out of it to tell Darcy what happened, explain to him the situation, and send him to collect the supplies she would need. When she named off all the items to the butler he looked very confused.

"And just why do you need to extract something from bread mold Miss Raven?" He asked.

"I know it sounds weird, but...there's a chemical in it that can cure Thomas' mother. And I need these items as soon as possible."

"While it's commendable to wish to help these people, do remember that tomorrow you will be leaving for Mourningwood," he reminded and she nodded.

"I know, I know, but it can wait. Right now this boy's mother needs me. I'm the only one with any kind of knowledge of this sort of thing. I'm the only one that can help. This is why I'm here, Darcy. I know you may not understand but...I was sent here to help the people of Bowerstone and that's what I intend to do. Whatever it takes."

"Believe me, Miss Raven, I understand perfectly," he said. Then he patted her shoulder before leaving. "Oh and shall I inform the King of your activities?"

"Tell him whatever you want, just make sure you get everything on that list."

"Of course, Miss Raven."

* * *

That afternoon, the castle was met with a very nervous guest. The guards glared at him and it made him ever more nervous than he already was. He'd been to the castle before, just last week, but after hearing about what happened after he left, hearing that the King arrested protesters and even the Prince himself, well, he was nervous. And being nervous made him stutter.

"I-I'm looking for...for...um," he glanced back and forth between the two guards who practically held him hostage until he explained himself, when out of nowhere, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life swooped in and saved him.

She had long blonde hair and the most beautiful eyes.

"Can I help you?" She asked. "Are you looking for someone?"

Beautiful women made him even more nervous than guards did. His throat closed up tighter than anything. He nervously fiddled with his cuffs, trying to speak. And still, the guards were looking at him as if they'd throw him in jail if he uttered a peep. The woman glanced at them.

"I highly doubt he means any harm," she told the guards, and they stood down, backing away and returning to their posts. He let out a sigh. "What's you're name?"

"La...L-Lazlo," he mumbled.

"Lazlo," she repeated. "How can I help you, Lazlo?"

"I'm...I'm looking for...for M-Miss...Miss Elise."

"That's me," she told him. "I'm Elise. Who sent you looking for me?"

"R-Raven," he sighed. "Raven Winters," he forced himself to say. "She's...she's at the sh-sh-shelter."

"Well, come on then," she said, grabbing his hand, "Let's see what this is about."

He about lost his mind when she grabbed him up and tore out of the castle with him.

_Gods help me, I'm holding the hand of a beautiful woman. Don't faint, Lazlo. Don't faint!_

* * *

It wasn't long before Elise arrived at the shelter, much to Raven's relief. She was standing inside the entryway when she walked in.

"What's going on?" Elise asked. "Lazlo here said you sent for me. Everything alright?"

Raven gaped. That adorable nerd was _Lazlo_?! As in...as in _that_ guy?!

"You're Lazlo?" She blurted without thinking.

"You kn-kn-know me?"

She inwardly palmed her face.

"Uh...yeah, sort of? Um, I mean yeah I've...heard of you. You run the shelter right?" Holy fuck she was an idiot. "Right," she mumbled quietly. "Okay, so yeah, I need your help, Elise. There's a woman upstairs who's sick and won't get any better until I can make medicine for her. I need you to help her son keep an eye on her until Darcy gets back with the supplies. Then I may need your help rigging the machine."

"Machine?" She repeated, quite confused.

"I'll explain everything when Darcy gets back," she said, then dragged Elise upstairs to introduce her to Thomas, who would hopefully be a future student of hers, and not a future orphan. Lazlo followed them, probably hoping to be of some help to them.

Raven sort of cringed on the inside though.

She hoped to _avoid_ Elise leaving and eventually hooking up with that guy...Mostly because he nearly gets her killed and ruins her relationship with the Prince. Boy, what were the odds they'd meet anyway, right? Pretty favorable, considering Raven just inadvertently did that.

* * *

Back at the castle, Logan stood in the war room absolutely confused by what Darcy attempted to explain.

"So, let me get this straight. Raven sent you to acquire items she needed to produce a cure for some homeless woman's illness?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And so she's borrowing the money from the treasury to pay for said items?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Darcy repeated.

"And if she doesn't cure this woman, she'll die, and this boy will be an orphan...What in hell is so important about this boy?"

"Well, Your Majesty, when you banned children from working in the factory, you left this boy with no means of providing for himself and his sickly mother, and since it was at Miss Raven's urging that you do so, perhaps she feels partially responsible for his welfare...As for the cure, Miss Raven is convinced her grandish idea will cure infectious diseases that healing potions won't."

Logan really didn't understand any of the items on the list, and it all sounded absolutely absurd, but...well, as far as Raven's feelings of responsibility for the child, now that he could understand. He let out a sigh and handed the paper back to Darcy. "However you need to, get it done," he told him.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

With a bow, Darcy left his side, unlocked the safe, procuring money to fund this little project, then left the war room in such the manner he always did. Without a word, much less a question. He didn't say as much, but Logan had a feeling that, just like the King himself, Darcy also felt that whatever reason Raven had for doing this, he was certain it was a _good_ reason.

But Logan was still confused.

Did she really have the knowledge to develop cures for incurable illnesses?

What a miracle that would be, if it were so.

And once more, so many questions about Raven's past were swirling about in Logan's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm so while Raven attempts to cure Thomas' mother she accidentally introduces Elise and Lazlo? Wonder how that will change things?
> 
> And will the real Lazlo be any different than the game?
> 
> We'll shall find out soon enough ;)


	15. A Peculiar Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update!

She could hear the steam whistle from the factory signalling lunch right around the time Darcy came with the items she'd asked for. She didn't want to know how he managed to get them, or how much they cost, so she didn't ask. She'd be paying for it eventually, so she'd find out soon enough. The room directly across from Thomas and his mother was unoccupied, so it made the perfect temp lab to start working, and it was quiet.

So without delay, she began extracting the penicillin enzymes from mold, ignoring Darcy's bemused stare.

"I didn't know quite how to explain your activities to His Majesty," he remarked after a time. "Though judging by the look on his face, he found it as peculiar as I do. Are you certain this will work, Miss Raven?"

"As certain as the sun shines," she quipped. "But whether or not it will help is another matter...Now, do you mind, Darcy? I have to concentrate."

"Apologies, Miss Raven."

After that, Darcy was content to sit nearby in contemplative silence, ready to come to her aid if she needed assistance, mostly holding something in place, or fetching Elise if she needed her. Both of them, as well as dorky little Lazlo, were all ready to do anything she asked, but none of them quite understood what she was up to. She tried to explain what bacteria was, and what antibiotics were, but they didn't seem to get it, and probably thought she was nuts.

But it didn't matter what anyone thought. She had to try. Theresa told her she was there for a reason. No, she didn't say Raven was there to play doctor, but she did say she was there to change things. She had knowledge of the future, and knowledge of a whole other world she could use to help the people of Bowerstone, and in this case, both ideas were not dissimilar.

Making a rudimentary microscope was the hard part. She didn't have the technology to make anything that would magnify the specimen on a cellular level, but she could certainly zoom in enough to extract the penicillin and remove any contaminants. Penicillium had a certain color and texture that was easily identifiable. As long as she was careful, she might just be able to extract enough of it to save Thomas' mother's life.

She sent Lazlo 'dumpster diving', and by that basically he sifted through the shelter's kitchens for anything moldy, specifically bread or fruit, and sent Elise to check on mom. She gave her an odd look when she told her to boil water, but she did it anyway. Darcy was sent back to the castle to update Logan on her progress, and bring back food. The non-moldy kind, because she was starving. When asked how she could even think of eating after being knee deep in decomposed goodies, her stomach growled, and no further answer was required.

It took her most of the day, and most of the night. She dozed off at one point, but she refused to go back to Bowerstone Castle. She would leave when it was finished and not a moment sooner.

Though she wouldn't mind sleeping the day away when she got back. But no such luck. She agreed to accompany Logan's soldiers to Mourningwood, in order to convince Swift to ally with Logan. Of which, she still hadn't figured out how she would, but maybe it would come to her when she got there, and saw Major Swift in the flesh.

She wondered what the soldier was like in person.

* * *

Logan was too preoccupied with royal business to give a thought as to what the little black bird was up to. Back at Bowerstone Castle, he was stuck with a lengthy list of requests still, and not a clue as to what decisions to make. He felt absolutely lost without Raven there to tell him what to do, and he felt ashamed for it.

_Come on, Logan, you're being ridiculous. You've ran this kingdom perfectly well for the last decade, without her assistance. Surely you can manage one day without her, can't you?_

_Well, I could, if it weren't for the fact that only Raven knows what will happen if I approve or deny these requests._

_But aren't you a grown man, who is perfectly capable of thinking for himself?_

_Apparently not._

Logan sighed, and set down the papers in hand, then poured himself a drink. At that exact moment, Darcy came strolling in to inform him that Raven was still at the shelter, immersed in her project, and refused to rest.

"I'm afraid Miss Raven will not be able to accompany the soldiers to Mourningwood tomorrow," Darcy told him. "At the rate she's going, she'll have worked all through the night, and even if she doesn't come down with the same sickness as Mrs. Plummish, still, she'll be in no condition to travel, I fear."

"Dammit," Logan cursed, setting down his glass. "Can't she simply get someone else to do this?" He asked, more himself than Darcy, but the butler answered anyway.

"Your Majesty, there is no one in Albion that has any idea whatsoever how to extract this...penicillin, as she calls it. Even Bowerstone's most capable physician has never heard of such a thing. He's convinced Miss Raven is a madwoman...She may very well be."

Logan sighed. "That may be so. I gather we'll find out soon enough."

* * *

Back in Industrial, Raven was startled awake for the second time that night by Elise.

"Miss Raven, you really ought to take the carriage back to the castle and get some sleep," she told her, then proceeded to yawn. "I think we could all use a bit of shut eye."

Raven blinked, and realized Elise wasn't the only one in the room. Lazlo stood next to her, and Thomas was standing in the doorway. The boy was looking at her expectantly, barely understanding what was going on, but hoping Raven would have a cure for his mother soon. Raven rubbed her eyes.

"Lazlo, why don't you take Elise back to the castle," she told him. "I'll finish up here."

"But Miss Raven-"

"I'm almost finished," she interrupted. "But you three need sleep."

Thomas stepped into the room. "You need sleep too, Miss Raven," he said. She sighed at the look he gave her. Apparently there was no telling this boy no. Then she rubbed her neck.

"Alright," she relented. "I think I have enough here for the first three to four days." She handed Thomas the first sample. "Give this to your mother and have her wash it down with the clean water Miss Elise boiled earlier, and watch for a reaction. If she starts getting itchy or gets a rash, don't give her any more. It means she's allergic. This small of a dose shouldn't make her throat swell, but it will be enough to make a difference if there is any. If she doesn't get worse, have her take the rest. Three times a day. Make her take all of it. Don't skip doses. Even if she seems like she's getting better, make her take it anyway. She has to take all of it in order to get well."

Thomas listened carefully to instruction, then nodded and turned to leave the room, but not before turning back and giving Raven a fierce hug. "Thank you, Miss Raven."

Then he darted across the hall.

"C-Come on," Lazlo stuttered. "L-Let's get the-the two of you home."

Raven nodded, and allowed Elise and Lazlo to lead her downstairs, too tired to correct the boy and tell him Bowerstone Castle wasn't her home. Darcy left the carriage outside the shelter to take her back when she was ready, but the butler was nowhere to be found. Lazlo opened the door, and that was when she noticed something was off. The driver was nowhere to be seen either. The carriage was abandoned.

"Hold on, I think there's-" she started to say, when three men, armed to the teeth, popped out from behind the coach, pointing their pistols at them. "Oh shit."

"Hold it right there," said one of them. A bald man with really bad teeth. "This is a stick up. Now give us all your gold and jewels. Come on, out with it!"

"Please, we don't have anything of value," said Elise.

"We're outside a homeless shelter," Raven pointed out. "We're broke."

"What about this one, yeah?" Another asked the first, pointing at Raven. "Don't look homeless to me. So why don't ya cough up all your gold right now, and we might let you live."

Persistent, weren't they?

Raven glanced to her right to see Lazlo looking a bit peakish. This likely wasn't the first time he'd been held at gunpoint, considering he lived in the worst part of town, but he was nonetheless rattled. As for Elise, Raven glanced to her left to see Elise was downright appalled at how the men looked at them both. Well, between the three of them, Raven was the only one with a gun hidden under her jacket, and there was no way she could draw fast enough to shoot all three before things got really ugly. The fuck was she supposed to do?

_Brilliant, Raven. You have a gun and you can't even use it. What good are you then?_

They edged closer, and so Raven, Elise and Lazlo backed up toward the door. They had them surrounded, and they couldn't even run. What were they supposed to do?

"I'll give you one last chance to hand over all your commodities, before we _take_ 'em," said the bald man. "And we'll start with you, Miss Smarty Pants," he said to Raven.

He looked her up and down, grinning, looking like he wasn't interested in her gold, so much as he was interested in _her_. She was just about to make a smart remark when she heard 'POW!'

She had no idea where the shot came from, but all three men jumped, and the bald one fell to the ground, shot in the back. She gaped in shock. The guy was dead. Just like that, dead on the ground in front of her. Blood oozing out onto the cobblestone. And the other two shortly followed, one shot in the chest, and the other shot in the head. It spooked the horses, and the carriage took off, running one of them over with a sickening crunch.

Elise was the only one with enough sense to chase after it and try to stop the horses. Lazlo was frozen in shock, but Raven was now very interested in whoever shot those men. A few more shots were fired off, and smoke filled the air, making it hard to see. Then she heard someone take off running before she could see who it was. Whoever it happened to be, they didn't want to make themselves known, which was too bad, because she'd really like to thank them for saving her life. She took a few steps that direction, but then noticed something laying on the ground where they stood moments before.

A single red rose lay at her feet.

Romantic, yet creepy.

She bent to pick it up and smelled it. Fresh, with only a tinge of burnt powder mucking up the beautiful smell. Freshly cut too. Not plucked from a bush. From a florist, maybe? Where in blue blazes would a person even get fresh roses in Bowerstone? And why did this person not want to be found?

She sighed, tucking the rose into her jacket, briefly glancing at the pistol she carried, before turning back to help Elise reign in the spooked horses and snap Lazlo out of his stupor. Soon after she noticed that the carriage driver had been shot as well, most likely by the men that meant to rob them. There was nothing that could be done for him. Or any of them, really. Only one thing to do. Go back to the castle and tell Logan what happened.

She could only imagine his reaction when she told him she was held at gunpoint.

* * *

"You were _what_?!" He exclaimed.

Yeah, that was the reaction she expected alright.

After taking them to the castle, Lazlo left with a few of the royal guard and the constable to collect the bodies of the bandits and the carriage driver, and Elise went straight to the kitchens, while Raven stood in the war room and told Logan and Darcy what happened. Just as she imagined, they were less than enthusiastic about the whole thing. But she was just glad to be alive, at the behest of this mysterious stranger.

She couldn't quit shaking, but she had all her fingers and toes still.

"Who do you suppose this mysterious marksman could be?" Darcy inquired.

"I don't know, but I think this is my clue," Raven replied, pulling out the rose. "Wherever this came from, so did he or she."

Darcy came to inspect the rose, pulling out his monocle, and using it like a magnifying glass, like a detective. "I wonder if we could hire Ransome Locke and put him on the case."

Raven chuckled. "Can't hire a detective if he's trapped in a book," she said. She was met with crickets, and both men stared at her. She cleared her throat. "Long story."

"Look I don't particularly care who this man-"

"Or woman."

"-Or _woman_ is," Logan intervened. "What happened tonight only further convinces me that you should remain at the castle. From now on, Darcy will conduct business on your behalf."

"What?!"

"Are you certain that is wise, Your Majesty? After all, Miss Raven-"

"Miss Raven was almost _shot_ this evening, Darcy. I'll have no complaints from either of you. This decision is final."

"You can't be serious Logan!" Raven complained. "If I'm not there then-"

"I _stress_ the word 'final', Raven," he snarled, metaphorically putting his foot down. She huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "Darcy, if I might have a moment alone with Miss Raven. Apparently, she is still too emotional after her brush with death and doesn't understand the meaning of the word 'final'."

"Your Majesty-"

"Out. Now."

With a 'hmph', and an incredulous glance, Darcy turned and left the room, setting the ambiguous rose on the table, and closing the door behind him. Raven watched him leave, and once the door was closed her eyes slid back to Logan, casting him a withering look.

"You're being ridiculous," she told him. "People get shot at in Albion all the time. Just about everyone has a gun, you know. And who can blame them? Do you realize how many mercenaries and hired thugs are out there reaking havoc right now? They're everywhere."

"And that is _precisely_ why you should stay here from now on. I should _never_ have let you leave in the first place."

"But what about Mourningwood?"

"You will have fifty of my finest escorting you to Mourningwood, Raven. You will not be in any danger."

"And what if we fail?" He gaped confusedly at that question. "What if we fail, and war comes to Bowerstone Castle? How will you protect me then, Logan?" She stumped him on that. He didn't know what to say then, and simply sighed. "Is there any possible way I can convince you to stop overreacting about the whole thing? I feel bad enough as it is. I mean, holy fuck, I've-"

"- _Language_."

She growled. "Ergh. I've got this pistol and I didn't even use it. I couldn't. Alot of good it did me to have it." She turned away from him, walked over to the couch, and flopped down on it, embarrassed. "I've been here less than a week, and already I almost got myself killed," she mumbled. She hung her head in her hands, reality finally sinking in that she could've died that night, and tears started flowing. This wasn't like her to be so... _blubbery_. But she was. She'd been in a lot of terrible situations, but none of them were ever this bad.

Near death experiences seemed to be the new norm for her since entering Fable in the flesh.

She heard footsteps and looked up to see Logan approaching. Hands folded behind his back, standing straight and tall, staring down his nose at her. He let out a puff of air through his nose. "This is my own fault, really," he told her. "I forget you are not from this land. You know much about it, but _obviously_ you're no soldier, and I imagine the ways in which you helped my brother had little to do with combat, for clearly you have absolutely _no_ experience in that area."

"I've been in plenty of fights," she defended with a sniff, trying to suck it up and pretend what happened wasn't getting to her, however miserably _failing_ at it.

"Have you ever killed anyone before?" He asked, without missing a beat. "I doubt it. But I have, Raven." She gulped. "It is no light matter."

He got down on one knee and knelt before her, coaxing her into looking him in the eye.

"I cannot say what things would've been like without you here," he then told her, much more gently. "But I'd like to think you have changed everything, and will continue to do so. And I _do_ know that I cannot do this without you...I...well, I can't even get through a day's end without worrying I'll make a mistake, and make things worse than what they are." He sighed. And meanwhile, Raven was stunned to hear Logan admit to such things. "Neither of us are Heroes, Raven. We can't survive wounds that seem fatal, nor can we wield magic. So, with that being said, I ask you to consider my advice, and stay here, where you are safe."

She hung her head. "I wish I could, but..." She shrugged. "I just can't."

"Would you consider it if I threatened to throw you in Bowerstone's jail?" He asked, ever so sweetly, and she scowled.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," she deadpanned. "I _have_ to oversee the construction of the factory," she insisted. "Some of the equipment is very dangerous, and I can't leave a bunch of inexperienced workers to do it until I'm certain they know what they're doing. I mean, honestly. Would you just sit back and let someone else run your country, Logan?"

"I practically am right now," he derided, rising to stand. "Very well, I think I have another solution then. Since I can't talk any sense into you tonight."

"I'm all ears," she told him.

"First, you're going to go to bed, because it's very late, and tomorrow you will leave for Mourningwood with my men, and when you return, if you are _still_ convinced you must put yourself in unnecessary danger...I will personally ensure you are better equipped to handle yourself in the future."

"How?" She questioned. He smirked.

"There are few people in Albion who could best me in combat. I'll train you myself."

She arched a brow. "You...will train me?" He nodded, holding out his hand to help her up from the couch. " _You_?" She repeated, taking his hand.

"Did you ever wonder why it's so very difficult to kill my guards?" He asked. "Who do you think trained them? Walter Beck is not the only man in Bowerstone that learned a thing or two from my mother."

Wow. _Walter_ learning swordplay from the Hero Queen? Well, damn. How good was _she_ then?

She chuckled. "So is that how you survived Aurora then?" His smile dimmed a little. She touched a personal subject. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Yes," he answered. To her surprise. "But that wasn't the _only_ reason I survived."

She swallowed a little at the dark expression flitting across his features. She knew what it was like in the game, but she couldn't even begin to imagine what Aurora was _really_ like for him. And judging by his eyes, it was a lot worse in person. It took a few seconds to realize she was still holding his hand and let go when she did, looking away from him, face turning red. "To bed with you," she heard him say.

"Yes, um, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Raven."

Heart hammering wildly in her chest, she left the war room as quickly as she could manage without looking like a spooked horse just then.

She couldn't sleep that night, replaying the events over in her mind as she paced, having a million questions she'd like to have answered. 

Little did she know, but the very same could be said of the King as well.

It had been a very peculiar evening in Bowerstone _indeed_.


	16. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven is to leave for Mourningwood; Logan entertains the idea of becoming romantically involved.

Six o'clock came pretty early, especially when Raven slept so little. So she groaned and wrapped her pillow tighter around her head, reluctant to move, when Dana came in and opened the curtain. No, she didn't want to get up and face the day, but she had to. She had to get up and go to school. She promised Mark she would try this time around. And she didn't break her promises.

Ever since the day she helped him fix his Toyota, they'd been getting along a lot better. She opened up and told him about the things that bothered her. Her fear of never never living up to anyone's expectations, the kids on the streets, the boy she had a crush on that didn't feel the same way about her, and her birth mother, who out of nowhere decided she wanted to be in Raven's life after being gone for so many years.

It was the worst eighteenth birthday present ever, seeing that bitch walk through the door.

Oh yeah. Yeah, she totally waited until Raven was turning eighteen before she finally got her act together and decided to come back into her daughter's life. That way she wouldn't have to have any _real_  responsibility. If Raven was eighteen, then she was old enough to live on her own, and she could just be a part time mom from the sidelines, instead of be a _real_ mom like Dana had been trying to be.

It made her feel that much more grateful for Dana when she realized how much from that woman she was taking for granted...But yeah, yeah her birth 'mom' had all these excuses of why she stayed away, why she couldn't be there for Raven, when Raven would've taken _anything_ at that point. But she wouldn't show up for even _one_ supervised visit? Couldn't take maybe one hour out of her weekend to be a parent?

But Mark and Dana gave up their whole lives, gave their time, their patience, and their love to some screwey, smart assed teenager diagnosed with Oppositional Defiant Disorder. And that day, after noticing how great she was at tinkering, handing her the keys after fixing his Toyota, it was like something in Raven finally snapped. She just broke down in tears right then and there and told him everything she was feeling, and you know what?

That was the day he asked if he could adopt her.

_Best_ birthday gift ever. Not the Toyota. The truck was nice, but the adoption? _Better_. To know that no matter where she went, she'd always have a place in their family. In their hearts. That even though she was putting them through hell, they wanted to keep her. And Mark understood where she was coming from, and unlike her previous foster parents, he didn't make her feel like a failure for for screwing up, and instead helped her enroll in GED classes.

And in the eight years she struggled, had her ups and her downs, her good moments and her bad, even through her string of toxic relationships, they were still there, waiting with open arms, ready to brush her off if she fell. He and Dana didn't give up on her, and they didn't abandon her. She couldn't give up on them either. She had to do this, not only for herself but for them. They were the only people that made her feel like they really cared.

So she forced herself out of bed and sat up.

Only to remember she wasn't in her old room. She wasn't about to finish her education so she could apply for a job, eventually move out, get her own place and her job at the diner. No, she woke to find she was in a large guest room of a castle. Woke to remember she wasn't in her world anymore. And instead of going to school, she was going to Mourningwood to relieve Major Swift of his post and convince him and his men to ally with Logan.

It wasn't Dana that woke her up, it was a maid.

She was in Albion and all the things she'd hoped to do with her life wouldn't matter if she didn't get home.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and crawled out of bed.

She threw a robe on over her nightgown and carried her cup of steaming hot coffee to the war room. Yes, Albion had coffee; of course, it tasted like dirt and a shit ton of cream and sugar didn't make it much better. But how was Albion to get freshly roasted Columbian anyway? There was no Columbia. So she sucked it up and drug her feet to the war room where Logan hid his cigarette case that he'd been so generous with.

She then proceeded to plop down gracelessly on the leather couch.

Hair a mess, face scrunched into a scowl, she sat hunched over and nursed her coffee, smoke wafting through the room. Minutes later she received company; a very disgruntled King of Albion who also searched the cabinet for the cigarette case. She held it out to him and then watched as he lit up and then leaned against the map, rubbing his eyes. Apparently he wasn't a morning person either.

Yet another thing they had in common. Neither spoke for several minutes, as neither had the will to speak. It gave her a moment to study the man out of the corner of her eye, cup poised in front of her mouth to hide the way she bit her lip. He may not be a morning person, and honestly looked like he was seconds away from having someone shot, but she always found men when they first woke up to be hella gorgeous.

The way they rubbed their eyes and their hair fell out of place, and that sultry half asleep expression. For a split second, she felt a little self conscious in a bathrobe with no makeup and bed head, while broody Logan looked so sexy. But after the way he looked at her the night of the dinner party, she thought maybe it would be better to _not_ try to look attractive to Logan. Presentable in public? Yes. Appealing to the King? Nope.

That was a level of complicated she didn't need. She'd settle for smutty fantasies instead.

Then Darcy came in, and there went the peaceful interlude.

"Such a morose pair," he commented when he came in and spotted the two of them, Raven on the couch, and Logan by the map, both looking like they'd been hit by a train. Darcy tisked. Then he laid out Logan's itinerary for the day along with that morning's newspaper and a few other odds and ends. Logan's scowl deepened, and he eyed the papers like they were poison. Grumbling and cursing under his breath.

"Not everyone wakes as gracefully as you, Darcy," Logan told him. Darcy smirked, straightening his collar as if to emphasize how put together he was compared to them. "Sometimes I wonder if he's human," Logan said to Raven, making her chuckle a little.

She wondered about those two. Wondered just how much Darcy knew and why Logan treated him differently than others. He'd never been mentioned in the game and was an entirely new character to get to know. She was sure there was an interesting backstory to that man but she doubted she would discover it today. Today they had more important things to worry about. She wasn't ready to face it yet though.

"I've taken the liberty of preparing the necessities for your trip, Miss Raven," Darcy informed. "And a horse will be saddled and waiting outside for you."

A horse?...Oh, yeah, bad idea to take a carriage to Mourningwood fort, huh? It could get stuck and it would just get in the way. But she'd never ridden a horse before. Should she tell them this?

Oh wait, no need, for then Logan said, "Judging by the look on your face, you've never ridden before, have you?"

"No, I haven't," she admitted. "But I'm a quick learner." She then chuckled. "Where I lived, horseback riding is more of a...hobby, than a steady means of travel." Logan and Darcy both looked at her strangely for a moment, as if she suddenly grew a second head. "We use motor carrieges sort of like the one I designed," she elaborated. Of course, the one she designed more or less resembled early car designs from the late 1800s.

She was not about to roll out with a 2017 Chevy Camaro and frighten the ever loving shit out of a colonial society.

"You'll have to tell me more of this land of yours that 'rides horses as a pasttime'," Logan remarked, stabbing the ashtray with his cigarette, snuffing it out. She shrugged at that.

"I might," she told him.

They made eye contact for a moment, Logan looking as if there were still something he wanted to say, and she could hear Darcy making gutteral throat clearing noises to fill the awkward silence. Her eyes passed to his. "Well, I suppose I should get dressed then. Good day, gentlemen." She rose to her feet and made to leave before suddenly remembering herself. "Good day, Your Majesty," she bowed to Logan.

Then, in what would probably go down in history as the most awkward exit ever, she shuffled out of the war room, headed back to her own.

* * *

Logan continued to stare at the door long after Raven disappeared through it, hardly paying attention to his companion, until one final 'ahem' brought him out of it.

"If I might say, Your Majesty, no matter _how_ long you stare at that door, it is _not_ going to magically transform into the fair maiden that just left."

Logan grumbled a little under his breath. "I don't like this at all," he said a bit louder. "I may be sending her with fifty of my best men, but Mourningwood is a dangerous place. And after what happened, I..." He rubbed his temple, then pinched the bridge of his nose as he said, "Am I just being paranoid, Darcy?"

"Trust me, Your Highness, you do not want me to answer that question."

"And why not?"

"Because I might be so inclined to give an honest answer," Darcy quipped eloquently. Logan scowled a little at such a caddy remark, dark eyes raking over the man's appearance, from the wispy grey hair on his head, to the twinkle in his blue eyes, and the smile that threatened to crack at any moment. If it were any other, the King would've signalled the guards waiting out in the corridor, and Darcy would be escorted from the room.

"Well, by all means, be honest then," Logan said instead, with a dejected sigh, wandering away from his musing upon the door and toward the leather couch, gracelessly flinging himself backwards on it, rubbing his temples once more. Hardly concerned with propriety, though he complained so much of Raven's lack of said principle. "Tell me what it is that I really don't want to hear," he said, all ears to Darcy's words.

Darcy considered him for a moment, absently fiddling with his pocket watch. Then he took a deep breath, as if he were about to address a crowd of people in the throne room. Though he spoke quietly, almost gently, as if he didn't wish to offend His Majesty. "My King, it isn't paranoia," he said. "Your concern for the girl is only to be expected. But the question is...Is your concern due to her importance to the Kingdom?...Or is it that you care for her?"

At such questions, Logan resigned to sulking for a moment, before choosing to comment on such things. Then he swept a hand through his hair as he leaned forward, hunched over, then clasped both hands together. "Tell me something, Darcy, is it wrong of me to feel this way?" he asked. Darcy hummed in thought before answering.

"Is it a _crime_ for His Majesty to develop feelings for his new financial advisor?" He then so aptly inquired in turn. Logan sighed. The man could always see right through him, couldn't he?

"I should be protecting my Kingdom, no matter the cost, and that means putting Albion's needs above my own," he said, more to himself that Darcy, as if only reiterating a known fact. "I cannot afford to be distracted by some...some..." He was at a lost for words, so Darcy filled him in.

"Some woman you barely know, I understand," he said with a nod. "And I'm not suggesting you abandon principle, but truly, Logan, it wouldn't be the end of the world if you allowed yourself to actually feel emotions from time to time."

Darcy then gave him a look, as if to say, 'You know I'm right,' but made no further comment on the subject. While he arranged everything neatly on Logan's desk, and then tidied things up, Logan took the momentary silence as an oppurtunity to contemplate Darcy's advice. Having sympathy for the working class of Bowerstone, or attempting to be more hospitable toward the servants of his home, was one thing. But having feelings for Raven Winters?

No, he should not allow himself to care for her beyond what was necessary to keep her safe so that she could continue to fill his treasury. True, that he could befriend her, and probably should, but beyond that? A very illconsidered notion. He dare not think of complicating things further. And besides, he had no idea where she was from still, and had no idea if she would return upon completion of her valiant quest to save his finances.

It was one thing to fantasize about her in the dark corners of his room, but another to act on those fantasies.

He got up and moved to the liquor cabinet, but froze when Darcy said, "Ah," as if scolding a mischievous dog. "Don't even think about it," he then said. "Far too early for that nonsense. And far better to eat your breakfast first."

Logan growled, then turned on his heel away from the cabinet, back to the couch, shooting Darcy a dirty look. "She _knows_ things about me," he mumbled as he walked by. Then he flopped down with a sigh. "Things I've never told anyone. Not Walter, not Swift, not Frederick, not even you. It's bloody terrifying."

Darcy came to stand before him when he started speaking, overly curious at to what Raven could possibly know about him, judging by the look on his face. He'd shared only the barest of details of what Raven told him, only what he felt he needed to know in order to help the two of them with this mess, but he left a lot out. "She knew about what happened in Aurora," he told him. "She knows about _everything_."

And it made his skin crawl, just thinking about it.

"Everything?" Darcy repeated. "Even the-"

"Even the nightmares, yes," Logan was quick to answer. Darcy studied him for a moment. "And I don't know why or how she knows that. Where could she have possibly learned it? You're the only one I ever told...Darcy, she's...she knows what's going to happen. She's...This is going to sound ridiculous, but...I think she's done all this before. And traveled back in time to do it all again. Do you believe me? Do I dare think any of this nonsense is believable?"

"My dear boy," Darcy lamented emphatically, shaking his head. "Perhaps you need that drink after all."

"Perhaps I do."

"Well," Darcy clicked his tongue. "Best not do whatever things Miss Raven is trying undo then, hmm?"

"You believe me?"

"I believe in a lot of things. Mostly miracles. And Miss Raven is precisely that, Your Majesty. At the very least, she seems to be exactly what you need."

Silence followed, then Darcy finished his task and made to leave the room, and he didn't know what possessed him, but something caused Logan to jump up from his seat as Darcy was leaving and say, "Uncle Darcy? I...thank you, for your advice." Not catching the way he addressed the man at first. Only thinking in his head about all that 'It won't hurt to say please and thank you, Logan,' that Raven had been shoving down his throat for the last week.

Darcy turned and eyed Logan for a moment. "My word. I...have not heard you call me that in... _years_ ," he said. Logan worried his lip.

"Yes...well...perhaps I never should've stopped," he mumbled contritely.

Darcy smiled a little. "You're very welcome, Logan," he said warmly, before bowing and leaving the room as quietly as he'd entered.

Not long after, Logan also left the war room, eager to get that morning over with. The sooner it was, the sooner Raven would leave, and the sooner she left, the sooner she would return, and be safe inside Bowerstone Castle. The sooner he could... _No, Logan, don't think such thoughts. Your relationship with Miss Winters should be that of a King and his advisor, nothing more_. He tensed when he so much as _thought_ of the word 'relationship'.

He couldn't so much as maintain a healthy relationship with his kid brother and his uncle. His own _family_. What business did he have considering one with a woman? And besides, he was King of Albion. He had a greater purpose, and a duty to his kingdom.

No, he never lied to Raven when he said he would rather see Albion burn than let it fall to darkness.

So he pushed such thoughts from his head when Raven came down stairs, dressed in her riding attire, the tasteful outfit with the mauve jacket, that covered her exemplary form and kept him at bay, to his relief. Fresh faced and awake, bright-eyed and ready to depart. She sported the pistol he gave her, and he prayed to whatever gods were listening that she had enough sense to use it this time, if needed.

Like a proper gentleman, he escorted her outside where the guard captain waited with a horse for Raven. Before she climbed on, he remembered to hand her the shining silver cigarette case, knowing she would drive those poor men absolutely mad if she went without, but she declined. "Keep it with you," she said. "I'll survive. You look stressed already, and I haven't even left yet. I have a feeling you'll need them more than me."

He inhaled slowly, and exhaled deeply. "I wish you the best of luck. Major Swift it not one of the easiest men to deal with."

She snorted, putting her foot in the stirrup, then swinging her other leg over the saddle. "I survived you, didn't I? I can't think of many things worse than that."

"That had _better_ be sarcasm," he snarled, and she chuckled.

"I can survive Swift, but can you resist Reaver?" she asked, gloating at him from a top the horse, with a smirk, and he sighed.

"Come back in one piece," he told her, and with a nod, then a click, urging the beast forward, she and the captain left, headed out through the front gate.

Was she really from a place that didn't bother with horses? For she rode spectacularly, he noticed. Wherever she was from, she rode away with her held held high like she owned all of Albion. Leaving the King to try to fight the smile that threatened to break out in her wake.

She was trying to save his life, but he was quite certain she would only be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap!
> 
> Darcy is Logan and Frederick's _uncle_?!
> 
> Who saw that one coming?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked!  
> Drop some comments and lemme know what you think!
> 
> -Sonya


End file.
